


Blake's 7: Liberators

by Generic_Writers_Name



Series: Blake's 7: Survivors [2]
Category: Blake's 7
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2019-12-25 08:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 68,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18257756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Generic_Writers_Name/pseuds/Generic_Writers_Name
Summary: "I was expecting Avalon...""And I was expecting an old man with a scarred face."Neither the young woman's attention nor her gun-arm wavered for so much as a moment, and Blake moved forward slowly, hesitantly. "Well, I'm doing my best..." she said, trying to disarm the situation - "Give me time..."A galaxy in chaos... A rebellion reborn... A legend returns. This is the Fourth Century of the Second Calendar, 27 years after Gauda Prime - A new 7, with enemies old and new to face...





	1. Chapter 1

The human race, just after the intergalactic wars of the late third century of the Second Calendar... Depleted, worn out, exhausted by the toll taken by the long struggle for their very existence. A new age had begun, for good or ill.

Yet, in the aftermath of the second war, there was optimism. The oppressive regime of the Terran Federation was gone, its military might destroyed - old notions of democracy, fairness and equality cautiously reemerged, as new political structures gradually took shape. Hope reigned... but it was not to last.

If there could be said to be a single day on which that hope died, it was this one.

* * *

**The planet Karstus, year 299 of the Second Calendar - 18 years after the death of Roj Blake on Gauda Prime and 6 after the climax of the second war against the Andromedans...**

The spacecraft touched down in haste, ignoring all safety protocols, and having disembarked its small party of passengers and allowed them to reach a safe distance it lifted off to return to orbit. The arrivals hurried across the vast rocky plain as best they could with their burden, tiny against the wilderness.

The surface was largely barren, with barely enough vegetation around the equator to furnish an atmosphere breathable for humans - at a push. Hostile, but in a far more generally hostile galaxy it had often proved a valuable resource for human spacefarers. Even the electromagnetic emissions of its star, which interfered with technological devices, could be overcome with proper shielding. Karstus was, for those accustomed to its challenges, an oasis in the vast desert of space, and never more so than now.

It had been a long time since cold, arid Karstus had oceans, but a relic of that very different phase of its existence offered the new arrivals the refuge they sought. They trudged toward the dark opening in the rocks, one of the blowholes leading to the ancient sea-cave system below.

Safety, at last.

* * *

"What happened...?" he demanded, clambering with difficulty through the dark cavern and down the treacherous steps. When he got no answer, he seized a convenient sleeve and refused to let go. _"What happened?"_ he demanded again more insistently.

" _You_ should not have left your post," said the arrival, a young, sharp-featured man, coldly, glancing at the offending hand.

"This _is_ my post." The owner of the hand, a stocky man in his fifties with careworn features and the bearing of a soldier, did not look away, except to glance over at the limp body being carried on a makeshift litter. "My post is wherever _she_ says it is."

"And I foolishly thought it was your job to protect her...!" the younger man hissed petulantly.

"I agree," the older one said matter-of-factly. "No one blames _me_ more than _I_ do. I should have insisted on coming"-

- _"Stop it, both of you..."_

The voice was heard first, then a slender arm emerged from the bundle on the litter and a pale, smooth-skinned hand settled on the closer of the two men, the younger one. The drawn face which looked up at them was that of a still-youthful woman in her forties, slight of build, strands of dark hair plastered to her forehead with sweat - her eyes were clouded with fever and pain medication, but the voice was perfectly lucid. "Dannen, you're a lawyer. Leave judgment on military matters to those whose... province it is, and perhaps they'll... allow you the same courtesy." A faint smile played over her lips, and the situation was quietly disarmed.

The younger man pulled away and continued down the steps, and the older one crouched down to talk to her. "I'm sorry..." he said quietly. "But once you're settled, we must speak." His manner was formal and business-like, but his voice betrayed him, as did his eyes - Just how badly was she hurt...?

"Of course. Make it soon." The outstretched hand touched his briefly, as if for reassurance, as her litter was borne away. The older man watched her go, face schooled by long habit to display very little.

* * *

He stepped into the private chamber, carved from rock long ago by the forgotten inhabitants of this world, ducking his head as he passed through the low doorway and immediately almost colliding with one of her attendants rushing out on an errand, sparing him not a glance. Never was he allowed to forget entirely that most of them had been with her a long time, some were devotees of more than twenty years standing, and all of them were inherently more trustworthy than the mercenary who had only joined them when the war was almost over.

Still... It was what _she_ thought of him that actually mattered.

The patient was installed in a camp bed raised up on a plinth, propped up by cushions and swathed with layers of coverings. She smiled weakly and beckoned him closer, seeming a little better but still clearly racked with pain. "How are you...?" he asked, arriving at her bedside. "Or is that classified?"

"They wouldn't tell you anything?"

"No. I'm not even sure they'll tell _you_ ," he replied. "Do they...?"

"They've kept me informed," she said, voice neutral, almost cheerful. "I'm inclined to think surviving an assassination attempt is probably a good sign."

"Almost always, in _my_ experience," he said, and they shared a grim smile.

"I wanted to"- she began, breaking off when someone ran across the chamber and buried their head among her coverings - Taken by surprise, she laughed, and _he_ was the only one who saw the pain that registered on her face. "Avral..." she said, hugging the child close. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I know... You should have been the first. Only..."

 _"That's all right..."_ The girl looked up - she was eleven, and such was their resemblance few could fail to deduce that they were mother and daughter. "I understand. Your work is important."

"Yes," her mother replied. "But not more than _you_ are." Her eyes were suddenly intense. "You _believe_ me...?" she asked, seeming genuinely desperate for reassurance on that point.

"Of course." Avral smiled, and her mother hugged her again and kissed her forehead through the thick fringe of dark hair - the girl's brow was cool and dry against her own hot, clammy skin. _"Perhaps..."_ Avral ventured in a whisper, _"Blake will return..."_

"Where have you heard that...?" Her mother's tone was a little sharper than intended, such was her surprise.

"It's something people say."

"If you know who Blake was, you must also know that's impossible." That was said gently.

"They say he's not dead... and that he'll come back when we most need him." Both the adults present shared a look that said _If only_... "If he did, wouldn't that be a good thing?"

"Perhaps... I think we will only really know that if it were to happen. And I _don't_ think it will happen _today_ , and so..."

"We go on," Avral whispered.

_"Always."_

* * *

"It's a good thing you still had this place to come to..." he said a few minutes later, after the girl had been ushered away. "Almost like you knew you might need it again someday."

If she had heard what he had said, she effectively brushed it aside and beckoned him closer - He leaned in, and with great effort she raised herself up to speak directly into his ear. She continued for some time, and at one point he closed his eyes and breathed in and out slowly - Finally, sinking back into the cushions, she awaited his response.

"So that's it then..." he said in a clipped voice, jaw set determinedly, eyes fixed on a point just past her and not quite able to look at her directly. "You're convinced there's no other course."

"Aren't you?"

"How do you...?" He stumbled over his words. "How...?"

"Because I have to." She took his hand and squeezed it with all the strength she could muster. "Because there's no other way now. Scarn has to be fought. You know that."

"Yes. But does it have to be you...? Haven't you earned the right to... let someone else...?" He shook his head, as if angry at his own weakness, and stood back a little. "Whatever you want me to do... I am _yours_." Now he had said that, he seemed eager to escape, to get away as far and as fast as possible.

"Make the arrangements," said Avalon decisively. Nodding, Del Grant turned to go.

* * *

**Interstitial**

**...**

**(Relevant extracts follow from the annals of the August Siblinghood of Morphenniel; Data adjunct 593A - The Federation Falls: From the Ashes... An Albatross)**

**...**

**The 3rd century of the 2nd calendar**

**...**

**99th year**

The key year in the formation of Unified Systems (UniS) on its final model. The agreement in the previous year to form a small centralized military corp had been passed with some reservation - not least from Avalon, former insurrectionist and now-Chairperson of the Provisional Council - as an effective counter-measure against the outbreak of space piracy and in response to a series of atrocities committed by political extremist groups. Many of the pirates and terrorists, of course, were demobilized troops from the Andromedan war, abandoned to fend for themselves, and warnings of the danger they represented had largely gone unheeded.

Commercial and traditionalist interests, represented most visibly - and opportunistically - by Erno Scarn, President For Life of the ten planets of the Proxima system, demanded far greater investment in a centralized military structure. Probably the true breaking point of the original vision for UniS came when an attempt to assassinate Avalon, very nearly successful, led to her withdrawal from public life for almost 6 solar months. Rumours of her death circulated widely.

By the time Avalon returned - notably more hard-line in her approach, more akin to the guerilla leader she had been in her youth - it was too late. The Proximan dominated Council closed ranks against her, and her attempted coup to oust Scarn was unsuccessful, forcing her to retreat. The new 4th century was to begin, some thought, with the return of the Federation in all but name...

But the reality was to be far worse...

**...**

**(Extracts concluded. Exiting backdoor... Deleting data retrieval signets... Deleted)**


	2. Chapter 2

**...**

**The year 308 of the Second Calendar**

**...**

* * *

**DSV-A1 - The 2nd _Liberator_ \- 6,000,000 spacials from Earth and increasing...**

Blake stepped onto the flight deck of the Liberator, her boots making barely a sound on the dark shiny surface. The floor felt ever so slightly yielding, spongy, and not at all slippery despite looking highly-polished. She ran her hands over the nearest of the control stations, and it came away clean - there were no dust particles in the air. Everything about this place was new. Reborn.

Waiting.

She turned to the others, to reassure them, only to catch something in the periphery of her vision, something that made her heart hammer in her chest. Before she even glanced directly at the source of her alarm, she focused on her companions, alarmed to see that Darvin had already followed her onto the flight-deck - _"Back!"_ she wanted to shout, but no sound would come out, and she whirled round to face... _it_.

The lights. She had hoped never to see them again. Whatever it was, this thing she had theorised to be some kind of security system for the ship, had been activated again. She had feared the others might have to experience this, but not to come face to face with it herself once again. _"What do you want...?"_ she yelled silently. _"What now?"_

The lights remained in her peripheral vision, and it was impossible to bring them into focus. Just as before. Blake forced herself to remain calm, turning to the others to reassure them... and they were gone.

She was alone.

* * *

Darvin stepped down, and almost lost his balance - his artificial legs occasionally let him down in their response time, and almost always picked the most inconvenient moments to play up. Cursing quietly, he got his bearings again... to find Mara - no, _Blake_ , she was Blake now - _gone_. He whirled round - clumsily - to check the others were all right... and they were gone too.

_What?!_

How could they all be gone...? Well, a teleport obviously. _Right?_ He forced himself to think it through. This ship might be big, but it wasn't infinite, and if they were still on board he would find them. _For now_ , he would explore.

With a little difficulty he climbed the steps running along the side of the banks of control stations, and allowed himself a tour, casting a critical eye over the layout of the controls. The Federation had never quite managed to get its hands on the original Liberator - not till it was far too late - and so the chance to inspect a similar ship was actually quite exciting. If he was honest with himself - not that he would ever advocate such a radical approach - he would happily grasp at anything, any distraction, to avoid thinking about... any of it. His losses. Servalan. _Revenant_. His friends, lost in the war. His-

_No._

Don't go there.

 _"Quite right..."_ she said. "Don't think about _me_. That's the last thing you need right now..." She smiled. "Oh! Too late, Stev."

He did not look up, but he could see the shape just at the side of his vision. She wasn't real. Couldn't be real. Darvin refused to look.

He looked.

She was just like the last time, that last day, before... Did _she_ leave, or did _he_...? In a way, he supposed, they both did. _No_ , this was fine, he could handle this... Just about. One thing he wouldn't do, whatever happened, the one thing he had no intention of doing-

 _"Tarna..."_ he breathed.

-Talking to her. _It_. Whatever _it_ was. That was what he had no intention of doing. _"Tarna...?"_ he said again, this time as a question.

 _"Stev..."_ she replied, another smile threatening to break out.

"I'm not going to ask how you can be here."

"Good."

"How...?" He lost his cool. "How...?! Just... how?!"

"Don't shout," she admonished calmly with an infuriating half-smile.

"Don't-!" He rubbed a hand, his one real hand, over his brow, but didn't look away, as if afraid she wouldn't still be there if he did. "Just don't, all right...?"

"Tell you what to do...? As if I could!"

" _Why_ are you here?"

"A much better question..." Tarna started to climb up toward him, lifting her long skirt to do so, and his apprehensive eyes followed her progress. This _thing_ , whatever it was, it was exactly like her. The sheen of her olive-skin, the hair elaborately braided and cast over one shoulder, the graceful economy of her movement, the look of calm amusement in her eyes... The _insufferable_ look of calm amusement... Rather, he realised, with a terrible ache at the pit of his stomach, this was the girl she had been when he last saw her. While _he_... He wasn't an old man, by any means, but he wasn't a young one any more either.

Darvin noticed he had stopped breathing, and made an effort to start again.

"We're _all_ here, you know..." she said, reaching out a hand for him to help her up the last step - not because she needed help, but just to make him touch her. To prove she was there, or...? He moved back. Looking a little disappointed, she stepped up to join him and they stood either side of the highest level of the bank of consoles with the duty stations separating them.

"Who's here...?"

"All of us. The ones who didn't make it. The _majority_. The _non-survivors_." A calculating look had entered her eyes that chilled him. "You can still be _with us_ , you know. Just take my hand. Wouldn't it be easier...?"

"Probably." The smile he gave her was the one perfectly crafted - tried and tested, even - to create distance between himself and an opponent as he gauged their weaknesses.

"What do you have left to prove, Stev? You did everything you could... Well, almost everything. But, who knows, maybe we could even make it work this time... We could try."

"Could we?" Darvin let himself look away, and when he looked back she was still there. He obviously wasn't going to be allowed an easy way out.

"What _is_ there, Stev...? I can feel it, you know. Your despair. I'm the only one who can. The only one who ever really knew you, I expect."

"That must be why you left."

"I left? Well, yes, but then, you left me a hundred times, and I only left _you_ once." She smiled again. "But who's counting, eh...?"

"You're all right..." He slapped the high back of the chair in front of him. "I'm good _here_."

"What's left of you!" she snapped. "Come with me, Stev, while's still some of the original _you_ left!" She looked over his body. "Just how much _is_ left, anyway...?"

"I don't miss you," he said abruptly. "At least, not the way I did." He gave a weak smile, and avoided looking directly at her. " _Sorry_. And, _uh_ , thanks for making it a little easier, right there." He started to climb down. "Oh, and... Goodbye, Tarna."

" _Suppose I'd better just go, then_ ," she said, just a voice now and sounding much further away than the top of the steps.

"Suppose," he replied.

* * *

"I've done _this_ ," said Blake. "I've been through all this." She turned to address the whole of the empty flight-deck. "I passed your little test... Didn't I? What is this, stage two? When exactly does it end? Are you just playing with me now...? Is that it?" There was no response, but the lights remained hovering on the edge of her vision. "Where are the others...? No, wait, are they _here_? That's it, isn't it? We're all here, but somehow... on different planes, so we can't see or hear each other...? Yes. Are they all going through what I did?"

The lights shifted and started to resolve in front of her. Menacingly. "I passed...!" she yelled. "What else do you want of me?"

 _Mara passed_. The voice was felt rather than heard. _Mara_ , it said again. _Not Blake_.

"So that's it..." she said quietly. "It's still _me_. I just changed my name."

_Not just a name._

"No..." she conceded. "It isn't, is it...? When Darvin called me _Blake_ , back on Earth, without even meaning to, it felt... right somehow. Like he'd just shown me, shown me how to... be _me_."

_Where is Mara now?_

"Mara served her purpose..." It wasn't even her real name, anyway... whatever _that_ might have been. "Blake is needed. So, till that changes, I'll be Blake." She closed her eyes. "Was that enough?"

* * *

"Was what enough?" asked Darvin, and Blake opened her eyes again to find the others clustered around her in the area in front of the bank of consoles. The horseshoe-shaped seating area looked very inviting, but she wasn't going to be the first.

Instead, Rissa was the first, throwing herself down on one of the couches. " _Oh_ , I need this!" she cried.

"What happened to the warrior ascetic, trained and honed like a razor's edge?" Darvin gently mocked.

"She met a very _silly_ man who showed her there was a lot more to life than chanting and never having sex."

"I don't remember _that_ ," said Darvin, looking slightly askance.

" _Well_ , you strongly _implied_ there was more," said Rissa. "I had to find out the details for myself."

" _With_ you now."

Seeing Caul standing apart, looking uncertain what to make of any of this, Blake went to join him. "All right?"

"I... Yes." He glanced at her briefly. "What's not to like about this?"

"Itching to take it all apart?" she asked mischievously. "And put it back together again, of course."

"Was it that obvious?"

"Only to me."

"Mara... I mean, Blake..."

"What is it?"

"No, it's... Never mind. It can wait."

She touched his arm. "It's all very different, isn't it?"

"One way of putting it."

"When you're ready." She moved over to join Darvin, who was leaning against one of the consoles and seemed a little shaken.

"M-" He corrected himself. "Blake. Here we are then, eh...?"

"Here we are."

"Where else would we be...?" mused Juni. Not so long ago, that would have come out as a snipe, a retort, but she just sounded dazed. Behind her, Faal's large-pupiled eyes flicked over to regard her with what looked like remorse, for those who might have managed to catch his momentary change of expression. The aloof mask of the Clone Master descended again right away.

Juni had lost more, had her life changed more, than any of them, if the change was to be measured materially. From the luxury and power of Galaxy City, to fighting a war, to this, in the space of a day. Little wonder she looked so lost. Even if she had sometimes displayed a certain lack of empathy herself - and was that so surprising, being Servalan's adopted daughter in all but name? - the others could find it in themselves to feel _just a little_ sorry for her.

"I saw things..." said Rissa, to none of them in particular. Or perhaps to all of them. "Things I... wish I could unsee. Right here, in the last few minutes. Or hours, or days, or however long that was." She looked around. "Anyone else?" Darvin looked over at Blake, and they both saw the answer to that in each others' faces. He visibly steeled himself, and moved to stand in front of Rissa.

"I saw my wife." No prevarication, he just said it, and saw tears well around Rissa's artificial silver eyes. She stood and clasped his hands.

"Darvin... I'm so sorry." It was so perfectly and so precisely the right thing to say to him at that moment that he actually laughed, choking a little, and made her laugh as well. She felt the need to be as forthright as her mentor, and blurted out, "I saw... _them_. _All_ of them. They were"-

-"You don't have to," he said, tightening his grip on her hands. She smiled almost shyly, and nodded, and Darvin turned to Blake. "I think it's safe to say we all experienced some sort of test, right?"

"And we passed, it seems, otherwise... I don't know if we would still be here." Blake glanced around the others, settling on Caul. "Did you...?" Distracted by his examination of one of the consoles, Caul looked up as if surprised by the question.

"Uh... No, I don't think so. I was just here, alone. The rest of you were gone, and then you were back. Nothing else." He became aware of Juni's scrutiny above that of the others, as her mouth moved without producing any sounds for a few moments.

"Same here," she said, and looked reticent as the others all turned to her. "Nothing," she said, almost bitterly, and looked back at Caul. "I was alone too." He smiled faintly, and she held the look.

"Well, I saw more than enough for all of us," announced Rissa, springing up from the couch and crossing to join Caul, leaning in close to him and glancing dismissively at Juni. Blake and Darvin exchanged a glance that said _let's not ask_.

"Did you see anything, Faal?" Blake inquired of the tallest member of the group. Faal regarded her calmly for a few moments before answering.

"Yes," he said. Just when she thought that was the entire answer, he continued. "I will need time, to consider it, then... I will need to speak with you, Blake."

"Well," she replied, "I think we can dispense with appointments, given that there's only six of us..."

 _"INFORMATION..."_ the ship's computer - Zen - interrupted. _"LIBERATOR CREW IN PLACE. SHIP'S SYSTEMS ENTERING FINAL STAGE OF CALIBRATION FOR OPTIMAL PERFORMANCE. SPEED IS STANDARD BY SIX. HEADING IS PROVISIONAL."_

"Make that seven?" suggested Darvin.

* * *

**Deep space, between the solar system and Proxima Centauri**

_"All ships report."_

The squadron of Unified Systems ships - several science vessels, three warships and, on the fringes, multiple pursuit ships buzzing to and fro, kept their stations on the far edge of the solar system, a state of nervous anticipation animating the crews in their various tasks. All were aware, now more than ever, there must be no mistakes. As bad as the consequences would usually be, today it was more vital than ever before.

_"Reports acknowledged. Incoming pulse in two minutes... Mark."_

Preparations were complete. They were ready to attempt, for the first time, to disrupt the beam carrying the powerful electro-magnetic pulse at the speed of light toward Proxima Centauri. Their home. The stakes could scarcely be higher.

The warships kept their distance, while the specially modified science vessels closed in on each other - the squadron rearranged itself balletically in the inky blackness. _"Check positions, people... This has to be precise. Not even a"-_

_-"Commodore - Incoming!"_

The beam and its deadly pulse was invisible, but the beam emitted by the science vessels in an attempt to counteract it was not - The electronic pulse was blinding, had anyone been unwise enough to look at it directly, and it fizzled silently as it travelled through the void. _"Emitters at full power!"_ came the report, the voice over the comm channel urgent, breaking a little in the excitement and stress of the situation.

The beams met at a safe distance from the emitting vessels, and combined to form a far more powerful one and be launched on a new trajectory - In moments it encountered the beam launched from Earth... and had no effect.

_"Report!"_

_"Readings coming in, Commodore...! It's... It's... Ineffective, sir. The counter-measures have proved... I have to report failure, sir. We've failed..."_

_"Pulse still incoming!"_

_"Get out of there!"_

_"Too late, Commodore... It's all right, we knew... knew this would happen. Though we hoped... I hoped..."_

_"Evasive, for"-_

There was no time for the science vessels to obey, and all were in the path of Avon's magnified electromagnetic pulse. All were shut down instantly, and one, in the act of firing up its engines to at least attempt escape, exploded and took all the others with it in a chain-reaction. The warships altered their positions and intensified their electronic shielding to minimise the chances of being damaged by the debris, and silence fell on the comm channels for several minutes.

_"That was... only the first attempt... Remember that. The pulse is still more than four years away from Proxima. We have four years."_

_"Warship Xerxes to flagship. Scouts reporting in... Reporting... sighting of enemy vessel... Trajectory being extrapolated. There's a chance we could intercept if we go now... Permission"-_

_-"Permission granted..."_ What was there to lose now? _"Good hunting, Xerxes."_

* * *

"I saw it..." said Juni, leaning on the console in front of her, abandoning her attempts to learn its purpose for now in favour of talking to Faal, positioned one row in front just above the base level of the flight-deck. "Or rather... I _felt_ it. How does that work?"

"What, precisely?" Faal responded while still busy with his console, apparently able to divide his attention.

"What...? I mean, as I stepped onto this ship I was instantly aware of what happened down there... on Earth! It took a while to make sense of it, but now... Servalan... and Avon, they were both in that dome when UniS... When they bombarded it. They're dead, aren't they...? I mean, I _know_ it happened, somehow."

"Yes."

"Is that all you have to say?"

"I suspect the ship's computer has some form of data cloud which uploads pertinent information to the crew as required, so long as verbal or visual communication would not be more efficient."

"I _downloaded_ the information."

"Yes."

" _Information_..." Juni impersonated Zen's calm, impersonal tones. "The most important person in your life... She's _dead_. Gone. Just like that. Information ends. Report _over_!" The note of bitterness entered her voice as she spoke, and when she was finished she started exploring the console's interface once more.

"Impressive..." commented Caul, looking up from his console at the top of the stairs a level above Juni - only the three of them were present, and he was apparently oblivious to the undercurrents in the conversation as it had developed. "That might be _very_ useful indeed if we have to fight this ship."

"So..." said Juni, and if she had heard Caul speak she gave no indication of it. "A telepathic interface. Is it something akin to the techniques _you_ use when you want to produce an adult clone? Ideal for fast dissemination of information... Education... _Indoctrination_ , even."

"I..." Faal was taken a little aback for a moment, but the calm veneer soon reasserted itself. "My people have used similar techniques in the past, it is true. Responding to the specific requirements of a commission."

"What about me?" Juni asked, almost casually. In her heard, she heard Rissa's inevitable scathing response - _That's basically what we hear every time you speak, Juni_ \- but Rissa wasn't here at this moment. _I've internalised her_ , Juni realised, and sighed wearily.

If Rissa had been here, or any of the others for that matter, Faal might have found that a convenient distraction, but as things were he found himself in a very uncomfortable position. "You?"

She sighed again. "Never mind." Her eyes, however, remained trained intently on the back of his head for some time.

* * *

"Honestly..." Darvin mused. "I'm not so sure."

"You don't think they're dead...?" asked Blake incredulously. "You saw what I did, didn't you?" They, along with Rissa, alert with her gun before her but still listening to their conversation, were advancing down one of the Liberator's hexagonal corridors.

"Yes," said Darvin. "I saw what this _Zen_ thing saw. What I was meant to. I mean, you met Avon, right... You talked to him. Well, take it from one who knew him a little longer, we all saw _exactly_ what he wanted us to see."

"I hope you're right."

"We might well never hear of either of them again, but take it from me, Avon had no intention of sacrificing himself... Not his style at all. And he went to a lot of trouble to make sure Servalan was with him at the crucial moment, so..."

"He told me she murdered my mother," Blake said casually.

" _Oh...!_ " Rissa commented, turning to her for a moment. "Actually, that _does_ sound like her, doesn't it, Darvin?"

"She did a lot of terrible things in her time..." said Darvin. "But then, so did I."

"There were... circumstances." Blake glanced between them. "In her place, I might have done the same. I don't know."

Rissa leading, they walked into the teleport bay - now complete and made of the same pristine materials as the rest of the ship, and apparently ready for use. The sound perpetually in the background - advanced alien technology ticking over, or some kind of air-conditioning system? - was louder here. Darvin investigated the storage bank built into the far wall, full of teleport bracelets.

"Nice..." he said. "This ship might be compatible with Revenant's bracelets, but I suspect these are somewhat better..." He turned to Rissa. "Be nice to teleport without having to replenish all your salts afterwards, eh...?"

"I think you're in love again," Rissa replied with a faint smile. "How long before you even forget Revenant's name?"

"Who?" Darvin asked as he examined one of the bracelets, fitting it on his wrist before taking it off again, although his expression was sad as he looked over at her almost apologetically.

* * *

Sol, the star that had given birth to the human race that now straddled half the galaxy, dwindled into a tiny point and finally vanished from view as the new Liberator hurtled through the void. Earth was left behind, a shattered remnant of what it had once been. There would be no need ever to return.

* * *

"There...!" said Rissa, depositing the pile of brightly-coloured, shiny or glittery objects onto the back of the curved bank of couches for the others to take a look. "Don't say I never get you anything! Juni, _look_... Shiny things!" Juni had been the first to pick up one of the items, but she put it down again at that, scowling at Rissa resentfully.

"A whole room full of them," Blake informed them. "If you'd ever wondered how Blake... _Roj_ Blake, that is, financed his campaigns... _Well_..."

"A wonder Avon didn't kill him a lot sooner," said Rissa.

"And one with machines to run off spare clothing to your exact specifications..." said Darvin. "And lots already produced in our exact sizes for all environments imaginable... Stored food and the means to make more, medical supplies and a surgical unit"-

-"They must have been produced after we came on board, but while the ship was still configuring its interior spaces," reasoned Caul.

"It all seems a little too good to be true, doesn't it?" said Juni, facing away from them.

"You're wondering what the price is," said Blake, and Juni turned to look at her appraisingly.

"There's always a price. Servalan taught me that." The look between them was held for a few moments. "Or, at least, she taught _someone_." That left Blake a little confused, but she left it there for now.

"Anyway..." said Darvin. "How went your investigations? It's been a long afternoon foraging out there, I hope you at least have dinner ready."

"Food rations and supplements are available throughout the ship, from dispensing units," Faal responded.

"Good to know, good to know," said Darvin. "Caul?"

"Well..." Caul was not at all comfortable addressing them all, and cleared his throat before continuing. "As you... The computer can of course control the ship for us, and will respond to instructions, but obviously there are advantages to being able to switch to manual control..."

"Can we?" asked Blake.

"Yes. And I discovered, at each console there's an accelerated learning programme, so each of us can learn a particular station in some detail, or even all of them, _in case_..." He did not spell out the possible drawbacks of strict demarcation, and instead moved over to the central position halfway up the bank of stations, before beckoning Darvin to climb up to join him.

"How is that possible?"

"Uh..." Caul became a little hesitant. "Telepathic interface."

"Should've known, really... Want a volunteer, I'm your man"- Darvin began, before seeing what was being pointed out to him, and looking concerned. "They really do cover all eventualities, don't they?" He ran his hand over the port that had appeared in the console, just in the right position for a pilot, specifically _him_ , to plug in a prosthetic interface. "Shame I left my spare hand on Revenant when she went," he said.

Before he had even finished speaking, Caul produced an object from the compartment beneath the console, and held it out for him to take. "Like this?"

" _Very_ like that, but this one lacks the makeshift charm of the old one." Darvin turned to Blake and the others. "Too good to be true?"

"Let's hope not," said Blake.

* * *

**Proxima II**

Some, even after all this time, thought it witty to observe that the Kapital complex on the second of the ten worlds of the Proxima system made Proxima II top-heavy - Certainly, as depicted on the banners of the ancient house of Mekatir, with its suggestion that the Kapital was visible from high orbit - even though it wasn't _quite_ that large, that _was_ how it appeared.

The banners of Mekatir were very much in evidence in and around the vast spaceport that evening, as the light of Proxima Centauri dipped below the horizon and in the moments before Proxima II's artificial sun lit up to take its place in the sky. Anyone looking out at the endless cityscape would have had their view distorted by the residual heat haze, but then few were looking out - not when such a rare event was taking place before them.

Proxima II's most famous daughter was coming home, at long last.

Doctor Lenta Guld took her place among the welcoming party at the foot of the long ramp of the landing vehicle, as soon as it was fully extended, and waited. The array of tired old faces, all men, sweated in the heat of the evening, jowly and resentful, but Guld kept her face neutral - if anything showed at all, it was her pent-up excitement. She was very much looking forward to what was about to happen.

The new arrival was going to shake things up - if nothing else, all could agree on that.

The Lady Shilena Mekatir Scarn swept down the ramp, preceded and followed by both her husband's elite guards and her own, the difference in their dress body-armour subtle apart from their contrasting helmet crests. Though more than seventy years old, probably a little closer to eighty, the First Lady's pace was quick, her movement fluid. Doctor Guld met her gaze unflinchingly, where the panoply of fusty old men avoided it, and was rewarded by a brief nod as the First Lady passed by.

It was not long before Guld was approached by one of the First Lady's attendants, neatly attired in her robe of distinctive Mekatir blue, and told to attend the Lady Shilena presently.

* * *

"I will not waste your time, or mine, with platitudes," Lady Shilena called with little apparent effort, projecting her voice so that all in the cramped reception hall could hear. "Suffice it to say that at least some of the rumours you have no doubt heard _are_ true..." Her icy gaze swept over them all without settling on any courtier in particular. " _Yes_ , President Scarn has seen fit to release the old _bag_...!" Some ventured a faint laugh at that before lapsing into uncomfortable silence. " _No_ , he will not be attending in person... He will be remaining at Storm Mountain for the foreseeable future, where... other matters demand his attention, and is leaving matters here in the Kapital in my hands."

She raised the hands in question. "These hands..." she said. "Make no mistake, my lords... and others... I have returned. And now I am home at last, I will not be leaving again. That, I promise you!"

* * *

"What did you think...?" Lady Shilena's question was casual, the washing of her hands before partaking of the waiting refreshments occupying most of her attention, but when she turned to her guest it was clear some kind of answer was expected.

Doctor Guld, alone with the First Lady in her private rooms apart from a couple of the ever-present sentries, smiled unguardedly. " _Just_ what was needed."

A curt nod was the response, and a brief grunt. "Good." Lady Shilena took an ornate chair and motioned her guest to do the same. "Nice to see you again, Lenta, very much so... I shall need you, and others like you, in the coming days... _Oh_ , I know, there are no others like you...!" A brief cackle. "No sign of Carnell, I suppose?"

"Disappeared again."

"To be expected... A pity about the Admiral..." Guld kept her face carefully neutral, unsure of the First Lady's mood at this point. "A loss, a great loss. An honourable man." She shifted position in her chair, and that was clearly that - the only mention of the late Admiral Zanso that would be allowed. "And... _he_ is returning here, yes...?" A curl of the lip accompanied that question.

"Yes. He has sent multiple requests to see President Scarn in person, but I have made the instructions clear - He is to be brought _here_. To you."

"Requests... You mean he has commanded it."

"Indeed, but that is not in his power any more."

"I shall see him as soon as he arrives... Arrange it."

"I will."

"Seven years confined, because of that filthy little toad," said Lady Shilena bitterly. "Make no mistake... My husband was easily led in those days... This has been long-awaited, my dear... So long." Doctor Guld almost pitied the object of the First Lady's ire - almost. "And now..."

"Yes?"

"Information has been difficult to come by, of late... You must tell me everything you know... about the new Liberator." The hawk-like face with its distinctive curved Mekatir nose broke out in a smile, and cold blue eyes fixed on her advisor keenly. "If I am to do what my _dear_ husband has charged me with, I must have all the relevant data... I must know everything... if our insurgents are to be hunted down and destroyed."

* * *

**The Liberator, deep space  
**

"What was it you wanted to see me about, Faal?" asked Blake discreetly, as the others departed to the newly-discovered areas of the ship to refresh themselves, and the tall Clone Master lingered behind.

"Is it your intention to prosecute war against Unified Systems?" he said straightforwardly, with no preamble.

"Well... Now, that's a question..."

"Yes."

She sat down, and beckoned for him to do likewise, but he ended up just moving closer and standing just beyond the edge of the bank of couches. "I haven't quite decided what I'm going to do yet, Faal. What do you think?"

"I... may have information that will alter your decision."

"Oh?"

"You are aware I have been living for many years in the belief that the rest of my people were destroyed along with our homeworld during the Andromedan war..."

"I had gathered that," said Blake.

"I no longer believe it to be true."

She took a moment to respond. "I see... Was it something you saw during our... entry to the ship...? I'm not sure everything this ship shows you is quite literally true, Faal, I think it shows you things that... make you vulnerable, to see how you'll react"-

-"No, the information I have is, I believe, reliable. Unified Systems went to some lengths during our escape from Galaxy City to secure me"-

-"Well, that's no surprise, surely... Just think of the possible"-

-"I cannot manufacture troops for them. Capturing me would not avail them in that sense, even if I was willing to do so."

"I understand. So why do you think they wanted you?"

"To accomplish that goal would require a full cloning facility to have survived the destruction of my world. Something that, to my knowledge, did not occur. Although, if I were truly the only survivor, it would not matter as the genetic imprint of two Clone Masters would be required to initiate production."

" _You_ are unable to produce clones, then?"

"I am _now_. I used the last of the... necessary resources some time ago, and now even small-scale production is no longer possible." His tone did not invite questions on the details of that, though Blake was beginning to make some deductions given Juni's barbed comments earlier.

"You believe more of your people survived."

"Just one, I would speculate, or my presence would not be so urgently needed. Also, a cloning facility transplanted from our homeworld before the end."

"Let's not allow them to get their grubby hands on you, then..." said Blake, standing up and moving over to him. "Thank you for telling me."

"You are our leader, Blake," he replied. "It would be very wrong to withhold information of this nature from you."

"Have you told Juni...?"

Faal looked very hesitant to venture a reply to that, but in the end he was spared as a shrill alarm briefly sounded. As they rushed to the bank of stations, Zen's voice cut through the noise. " _INFORMATION..._ " it boomed _._ " _LIBERATOR IN CLOSE PROXIMITY TO NUMEROUS SMALL OBJECTS ADVANCING AT HIGH_ _SPEED_..."

"We need the others," Blake said urgently. Faal leaned over and activated a switch, and she shot him a grateful look. "Get back to the flight-deck," she called into the intercom. "Hurry, we've got trouble."

" _OBJECTS ARE EXPLOSIVE PROJECTILES FIRED FROM SPACECRAFT NOW ENTERING DETECTOR_ RANGE..." said Zen calmly. " _DISTANCE CLOSING_."

* * *

Dart-like, the oncoming ships hurtled through space, and soon enough the Liberator's advanced detectors would reveal them for what they were - Unified Systems Gamma-class Pursuit Ships.

On an attack run, and closing in on their target.

* * *

Blake and Faal had now been joined on the flight-deck by the others, who hurriedly assumed the duty stations that seemed natural for them all. "Just how accelerated is that accelerated learning, Caul?" Darvin asked, hurriedly fitting the new appendage to his artificial arm.

"Initiating now..." said Caul. "You'll see an icon appear on the main screen in front of you... Look at it it, and don't look away."

"How's that meant to work?" Juni demanded.

"Telepathic interface...?" said Caul, his tone impatient, becoming a little flustered as the urgency of the situation took hold.

"So now we're letting this ship into our heads!"

"I rather think we already have," said Blake calmly as she followed Caul's instructions. "Zen - Take all normal evasive measures and stand by to go to manual control!"

" _CONFIRMED_."

"Will those missiles be effective?" Rissa wondered.

" _Those_ ships were developed specifically to combat _this_ one, or rather its predecessor," said Darvin, even as he stared at the monitor in front of him. "So... Yes, there's a very strong possibility!"

"Oh, _bum_ ," said Rissa.

* * *

Last-minute navigational adjustments were made remotely, and the barrage of missiles raced their way through the dark toward the Liberator...


	3. Chapter 3

**The planet Atlay - year 295 of the Second Calendar**

One ship each. No weapons brought to the surface. All parties had adhered to these two simple rules, or if they hadn't they all managed to get away with it without being caught. And so the conference could proceed.

Atlay was one of only a few planets which offered the facilities, had actually survived the war and were accessible and relatively safe, and in the end it was the only location that all parties could agree on as a meeting place. The basic agreements that had notionally founded the Unified Systems Alliance were long since ratified by all, but there were still a lot of clauses to be settled in detail.

Avalon was there. So too was President Scarn of the Proxima system, and a hundred other rulers, mainly former Federation officers. Having seized power in whatever system they had found themselves at the end of the war, they were all basically the last man standing, the one who had managed to kill or drive off all his rivals. Even _she_ had been invited by open communiqué, just on the off chance that the notorious war criminal, the one most associated with the worst excesses of the late Federation, could be tempted out and captured by such a base appeal to her vanity. It did not work, surprising no one. Sleer did not come.

All attended many meetings, some important, some very trivial, but the most important meeting that took place on Atlay in the course of the three-day summit, the one with the greatest long-term repercussions, happened in secret.

* * *

"Let's make this quick." Erno Scarn shifted his bulk through the narrow doorway and eyed the small mess room with faint distaste, brushing a chair down with his great slab of a hand before settling on it.

"Yes, before we're missed..." Sol Brintun peered out into the corridor before closing the door.

"Whatever," said Scarn. "I just don't want to be here any longer than necessary."

"The Federation is finished," said Brintun resolutely, and paused to collect his thoughts.

"That's what you wanted to tell me?" Scarn raised an eyebrow. "That I could have told you years ago."

"I mean... anyone who thinks they can just rebuild along the same lines, continue as if nothing had happened, is deluding himself. A drastically new approach is needed."

"Oh yes?"

"Yes, President Scarn. And I..."

"Go on."

"I hold the key to a weapon that may just swing the tide of history decisively in your favour. Not today, but in the years and decades to come. I suspect you and you alone have the vision to take the steps necessary."

"A vision your current masters lack?"

"Yes," Brintun replied without hesitation.

"I alone, you say?"

Brintun smirked, and looked away for a moment. "With the right advisors."

"And what's wrong with my advisors?"

"For your current needs, nothing. They have served you well enough. But they're not me."

Scarn chuckled. "And if I take this leap, to believing I need you... What then?"

"We-"

"-I mean, I could just have you killed. Have you considered that?"

"You won't."

Scarn let that go. "What about our illustrious Chairperson? Why haven't you offered her your services?"

"Need you ask?"

"I _am_ asking." The smile still played over Scarn's cherubic face, but the eyes were cold.

"Avalon plays well, for now," said Brintun. "There will come a day, perhaps very soon, where she is no longer needed."

"Finally..."

"What?"

"A matter on which we are in total agreement. Perhaps you are worth taking on, after all..."

* * *

**The Presidential launch, en route to Storm Mountain - year 301 of the Second Calendar**

"She's my wife." Scarn's face was impassive, and many would have stopped right there, perceiving the danger signals, but Brintun just moved around the President's imposing command chair to press the matter. "What would you have me do?" Scarn demanded.

"She _is_ your wife," Brintun acknowledged. "And also a traitor."

"And a Mekatir," said Scarn. "A Mekatir! Lest we forget, a lineage far older and prouder - _so much_ prouder! - than my own."

"This is the fourth century, now," said Brintun quickly, having clearly anticipated that and rehearsed his response. "Power, in its purest sense, is what matters. Not bloodlines."

"Tell that to the other houses."

"The other houses do not listen to me. And why would they? But they _have_ to listen to you..."

"And _I_ listen to _you_... Why do I do that, remind me...? Where is that army you promised?"

"You have an army... and you will have the even greater one promised, in time. But an army is not necessary for what has to be done today."

"You want me to kill my wife."

"I want you to do what you must, and have given my advice. Only _you_ can decide."

* * *

 **Proxima II -** **year 308 of the Second Calendar**

 _"What is the nature of his ailment...?"_ Lady Shilena had inquired, almost certainly indifferent to the subject's well-being but perhaps concerned that he might expire before reaching his audience with her.

 _"_ _Myocardial infarction..."_ Doctor Guld had replied. _"Almost unheard of in this day and age. The doctors had to consult their databases before venturing on treatment. I understand it was a very... traumatic experience, and has left him somewhat weakened."_

_"Good."_

Sol Brintun made a conscious effort to keep his pace slow and steady as he advanced along the hallway of the Presidential palace, remembering the doctors' advice, ignoring the stony faces on all sides and the almost tangible waves of hatred emanating from the assembled courtiers. That, he was used to. Being summoned, however, by anyone but President Scarn himself, was something he had not been accustomed to for many years.

He had failed. He would not admit that, _dare not_ admit that, to anyone else, but he could and did admit it to himself. Tomorrow, he would fix that, he would find solutions to the mess they were in, and he had absolute confidence that would be possible. He had always achieved anything he had set his mind to, despite the massive obstacles placed in his path by his low birth, his poor health, and a thousand other factors that would have halted a lesser man.

That was tomorrow. Today, his goal was to survive, and he would, he had no doubt that would be possible as well. He was a man of destiny, and whatever the difficulty he faced it would be overcome - The doors were opened, and he shambled forward to face his latest obstacle.

Shilena Mekatir, First Lady of the Proxima system and of Unified Systems, was waiting to be overcome. By his wits, by his words... By the forces of destiny. Their eyes locked, and Brintun's narrowed behind the thick lenses. He moved closer, cautious but resolute - It would be necessary to pick his words with care now...

"Lady Shilena-" he began.

"You recognise me, then?"

He frowned, thrown off guard. "Of course-"

"-Good." A slight nod from the First Lady brought several shots fired from behind Brintun - back arched and face contorted, he dropped to the floor like a sack of meal. Lady Shilena's eyes remained on him, watching his body twitch for several seconds, a very faint smile on her face.

"I wanted him to know it was me," she explained calmly. Business done, she clapped her hands in front of her. "Clear that away, please, someone..." she said casually, moving past the prone body on the ground, long skirts brushing over Sol Brintun's outstretched clenched fingers.

A bitter chapter of her life was over. Now, a new one could properly begin.

* * *

**The Liberator, deep space**

_"Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, hurry up..."_ Rissa murmured, silver eyes fixed on the monitor built into her station. "Hurry up!" This accelerated learning wasn't nearly accelerated _enough_ for her taste.

"I'm not sure that's conducive..." said Blake, standing off to the side and periodically seeking reports from Zen while the others each occupied one of the five stations. "I think you're supposed to relax."

"I am relaxed..." said Rissa, smiling. "This is how I relax, haven't you noticed that yet?"

 _"INFORMATION..."_ said Zen. _"PROJECTILES HAVE ALTERED TRAJECTORY AND ARE ON COURSE TO INTERCEPT LIBERATOR IN SEVEN MINUTES."_

"Intercept..." said Juni. "Why doesn't it just say _hit_?"

"Zen...!" said Darvin. "Transfer my station to manual."

_"PILOT TRAINING IS INCOMPLETE."_

"I think we're _all_ going to be pretty incomplete in a few minutes, if we leave this to you... No offence, big guy."

"Are you sure...?" asked Blake. "You think you're ready?"

"Please..." said Darvin. "Do I look like someone who ever reads the instructions?"

Blake shook her head, and waved an arm toward him in a helpless gesture. "Well... On all our heads be it!"

* * *

The missiles hurtled onward, slowly gaining despite _Liberator_ 's attempts to shake them off. Zen's evasive maneuvers were thorough and, unfortunately, entirely predictable by the missiles' automatic guidance systems even before the remote operators in the closing Pursuit Ships were taken into account. The range narrowed as they closed on their target.

* * *

 _"IMPACT IN FOUR-POINT-SEVEN-FIVE MINUTES,"_ said Zen. _"PILOT STATION SWITCHED TO MANUAL CONTROL."_ Blake wasn't sure if the computer's disapproving tone was only in her imagination - she shot an anxious look at Darvin, fierce in his concentration, leaning forward to plug his artificial hand into the waiting port.

"Darvin..." said Caul. "Do you want me to fire a few shots from the rear blasters? Try to break them up a bit?"

"Knock yourself out, my friend."

" _Clearing neutron blasters for firing_... Firing now!"

* * *

Caul's salvo of shots from _Liberator_ 's neutron blasters blazed their way across the space between the ship and the oncoming missiles, and though they failed to hit their target, they succeeded in forcing the missiles off course and in making their remote operators waste precious seconds correcting their trajectory... Time for Darvin to prepare.

Liberator swung round in a tight arc, straining the entire structure of the ship, and hurtled back and through the missile barrage, missing several of them narrowly, and into a collision course with the squadron of Pursuit Ships not far behind.

The crews of the Pursuit ships took precious time to realise their danger, and they did so too late. As Darvin pulled Liberator out of its death-dive onto the enemy ships, the missiles impacted on the very ships that had fired them. _Liberator_ emerged from the expanding cloud of debris, its electronic force wall becoming visible with each impact of the wreckage, gleaming and resplendent in the fiery glow.

* * *

Suddenly, survival seemed like a real possibility. There was a kind of restrained glee on the flight-deck, and general congratulations heading in Darvin's direction, but none of it interrupted his concentration for a moment. "Not over yet!" he cautioned.

"Did we get them all?" Blake demanded.

"Don't know yet," said Juni, studying the readings. "Wait... One survivor!"

"And what will they expect us to do now...?" Blake demanded, and they all thought about that quickly.

"Retreat," said Faal. "We have barely escaped with our lives, it would be logical to retreat."

"They'll regroup and come after us," said Darvin. "Standard procedure in my day. I mean, we might be fast enough in this ship to make retreat a viable alternative, _possibly_."

"We're not retreating," said Blake, resolute. "Darvin, you have the deck. Caul, Rissa - with me."

* * *

The retreating Pursuit Ship found itself pursued, and under Darvin's increasingly deft handling, Liberator got very close and then matched its adversary's speed precisely. _"Ready!"_ Darvin called over the comms. _"Don't know how long we can maintain this, so best do whatever you're going to do!"_

* * *

If being pursued was a surprise, that was nothing compared to the shock the crew of the Pursuit Ship received when two of the enemy crew appeared among them in a momentary blaze of white light. Rissa shot them down, one by one, with ruthless efficiency, while Blake hurried to the cramped flight-deck and, after a little more killing, a job she detached her emotions from entirely, she worked quickly, hunting through the instrument panels furiously. Trying to avoid the sightless eyes of the two men she had just killed. _They would have killed you... It was necessary... Get on with it...!_

 _"Blake...!"_ came Darvin's voice from her teleport bracelet. _"Nowish would be a good time to come back, if you want to come back that is...!"_

"Get us back," cried Blake, bringing her bracelet up close to her mouth. "Now!"

* * *

The UniS warship _Xerxes_ rumbled onward, crew on high alert, expecting at any moment to receive news of victory, or for its sensors to register the flare from the destruction of the enemy ship. The longer they went without incident, the more tense the situation became.

_"Xerxes to Pursuit Ship squadron... Xerxes to squadron... Respond, please... Respond, please..."_

_"Sir... Picking something up... It's..."_

_"Pursuit Ships? The enemy? Speak up, man!"_

_"Um, negative, sir... That is, not Pursuit Ships. Just one returning, sir - it seems to have suffered some damage."_

_"Xerxes to Pursuit Ship, Xerxes to Pursuit ship, report situation... Report situation..."_

_"Comms must be down, sir... Receiving signals... Old code, sir... Indicating their comms system... Yes, it's down... Short range radio is functioning..."_

_"It won't work at this range... Let it come in closer..."_

_"Sir, I..."_

_"What is it?"_

_"Sir! Destroy it, sir! No, too late! We have to-!"_

The Pursuit Ship's engines overloaded, and the explosion devastated _Xerxes_ , almost ripping it in half. Within seconds, a chain reaction of further explosions completely engulfed the UniS warship.

* * *

If _Liberator_ 's crew had expected to feel any kind of triumph at their victory, complete though it was, they were to be disappointed. In fact, they just quietly completed the learning programs and ran their stations through a diagnostic process, before all responding with quiet relief to Blake's softly-spoken suggestion, _"Let's get some rest."_

Caul volunteered to stand the first watch, and, after offering to do it herself, Blake accepted his insistence. When both Juni and Rissa volunteered to stay too, it momentarily looked like conflict might flare up, but Darvin defused the situation with a few quiet words.

Blake left the flight-deck on her first day in command of the Liberator with a lot to think about.

* * *

In one of the districts of the Kapital known colloquially as _Downtown_ , in the shadows between the massive monolithic Extractors, lived a significant proportion of Proxima II's population, and therefore of the Proxima system as a whole. And therefore, it followed, and this was a sobering enough thought for those to whom it occurred, a significantly large proportion of the entire human race.

Best not to think about that, on the whole.

It was an ideal place to get lost, or more precisely to hide oneself. For criminals, both minor and major, for the disgraced, the dispossessed and the disinherited, as well as flat out enemies of the state. One of those enemies made her way by the darkest and most fetid of alleys, snaking her way through puddles of the condensation that ran down the walls of the buildings on either side, to a watering hole that could charitably be described as... quite dangerous.

Nodding to a couple of familiar faces on the way in, the young woman kept to the edges of the dank interior till she found a suitable booth, one that was quiet enough for her purpose. Then she waited.

It wasn't very long before he arrived, and the young woman, straight-backed and contained, calm and disciplined, was very aware of her surroundings the whole time. None would sneak up on her - it had been tried, and the attacker had always come to grief. She may not _look_ very threatening, this slender, pale-skinned girl who if anything looked a little younger than her twenty years, but she was well-known enough not to be trifled with.

"Why now...?" he said abruptly, before slumping down into the bench seat opposite and hunching forward. The man was in his sixties, and did not particularly look younger than that - his craggy face was one that had been lived in. He ran a hand over his sparse, cropped grey hair and scratched his stubbly chin. "We weren't supposed to meet for another-"

"-Why wasn't I informed we had lost our contact in the palace?" Avral leaned forward a little, lowering her hood. The muted lighting shone on her fine dark-brown shoulder-length hair, the same light reflected as bright dots in brown eyes stern with contained anger. The sleeves of her dark-red leather tunic emerged from the folds of the traveling cloak as she tapped her long leather-gloved fingers on the damp tabletop.

"I only just found out myself," said Del Grant, and signaled for a drink. Avral shook her head slightly to decline one for herself, and he sighed. "You'll draw less attention if you behave like everyone else in here. It's bad enough you don't _look_ like anyone likely to frequent this place."

"Like you do?" It wasn't entirely an angry retort - there was genuine concern for him there too, and a sort of rueful affection. "You need to look after yourself, Del."

"Why?" One word, spoken plainly, but she knew the pain behind it.

"For the cause?" That was said with a cynical smile. "Like it or not, Del, and let's be honest, I know you _don't_ , I'm a senior operative now." Ignoring his quiet chuckle at the word _senior_ , Avral continued. "I'm not happy about your attempts to sideline me. I understand _why_ , which is the only reason-"

"-Do you? Understand why? Or do you only think you do?" They looked at each other across the booth for a long moment.

"I need to find out as soon as you do, if not before..." she said, calm again. "It's not for the sake of my ego, it's not to somehow get one up on you, it's because _others_ depend on me too." She looked away, and then back. "Also, _I_ recruited her. I need to find out what happened."

" _As_ a senior operative, why don't you make your own periodic reports?" asked Grant with the air of a man who already knew the answer.

"Walar, he's... Walar is better at them, and if she wants to talk to me directly then she knows where I am."

"And what does Walar think of that?"

"Who cares?"

" _You_ should!" Aware his voice had carried a little, Grant made himself speak more quietly. "Think about it." Another long stare-out, before she relented.

" _I'm_ going in," she said straightforwardly and sat back, ready for his objections. "I'm sorry to do this to you, I really am... but if I ask _her_ , you know what she'll say."

"She'll say _yes_." His response was so low it was almost a whisper.

"She'll always say _yes_... You _could_ try to overrule her, of course, but how do you think that would play...? The great Avalon overruled... What would Walar think of that...?"

He looked at her without speaking, and his gaze was, she thought, more sad than angry. She had expected anger, but _this_ she had dreaded. "You _need_ to see something," he said at last.

* * *

 _"I'm not sure what you'll make of this..."_ said Grant, leading Avral across the murky main floor of the establishment. "I'm not even sure what _I_ make of it." They stopped, and he indicated one of the three-dimensional holographic displays broadcasting the news media to mostly indifferent patrons. "Wait, it'll come around again shortly."

"What are we-?"

"-Just wait."

"That's one of the independent vid services..."

"Yes."

"Is this the one that claims the world is going to end in four and a bit years?"

"Possibly... Here it is." To Avral's astonishment, the muted report was accompanied by a few seconds of video footage - on a loop - that purported to show the identity of the infamous insurgent space vessel responsible for the recent attacks on UniS ships in the vicinity of Earth. Her mouth fell open at the sight of the vessel, eyes wide, and she turned to Grant. _"Careful,"_ he warned, and she contained her excitement for the benefit of those who might be watching.

"It's him," she said, voice breaking a little. "He's back! I always-"

"-That's the best case scenario," said Grant, unable to quite stop the faintest of smiles appearing on his habitually grim face. "Don't get _too_ excited, though. If Blake _is_ alive, he'll be a little creaky these days. Like me."

"I hope he's _just_ like _you_ , Del," Avral said playfully, gripping his arm. He scowled at first, but soon relented. He hadn't seen Avral respond like this to anything, not for many a year, and just that was enough right now.

Looking at Liberator as it flashed up again and again, he couldn't quite rid himself of that peculiar sensation. He had felt it before, fleetingly. Certainly on Albian, nearly thirty years before, but seldom since. What was it, that sensation...?

 _Oh, yes_. Hope.

* * *

_"So, you really think he's not dead...?"_

In the Liberator's refectory, a long low-ceilinged room lined with gleaming white tables and bench seats, Darvin was sitting alone, picking at a square tray with various edible substances deposited in differently-shaped indents by one of the dispensers - alone till Blake came to join him. They were the only two present for now.

"You want me to show you how to get some of this..." Darvin hesitated. "Food?"

"Not hungry."

"Get hungry, Blake. You're going to need food, like all of us. You're human."

Her expression was half frown, half-smile. "Of course I'm human."

"Sorry... Just trying something out," he said, and sampled a mouthful of purple mush, finding it surprisingly pleasant. "It's just... back in the old days, I mean _right_ back, important people, great leaders and all that, they would sometimes have people whose job it was to whisper in their ear, when they thought they needed it, _You're just a man_..."

"I'm not a man," said Blake lightly. "But I see your point."

"I don't really know what my point was..." said Darvin, looking down at his tray, considering what to try next. "Don't mind me. I don't know where I am any more."

"You seem to know where you are on that flight-deck," said Blake, and paused. "Will you do that for me, Stev?"

"Do what?"

"Remind me, when I need it."

He continued eating, and it was a little while before he next spoke. "Yes, I'm pretty sure he's not dead," he replied to her original question.

"Avon?"

" _That's_ who you meant, wasn't it...? But I don't think we'll ever know for sure either. I think he and Servalan are far away right now. They've gone... I don't know, somewhere... Avon's been planning what happened there on Earth for years... _Oh_ , I don't doubt some stuff went wrong and he had to make adjustments, but we were all his pawns from start to finish."

"And we still are."

"Only if you want to be."

"What do you mean?"

He pushed the tray away, and looked at her levelly. "We had good reason to go after those UniS ships today. They were a direct threat to us, probably. But now..."

"Now...?"

"They're not pursuing us right now... I see that as a hint. And an opportunity."

"I hadn't thought about it that way. Not yet." She sat back, without breaking their eye contact. "Did Avon assume we would pick up where they left off, all those years ago...? I suppose I was assuming it too."

"Or... We could just turn this ship, the most powerful ship in existence right now, turn it around and head out there, and find something better for ourselves..."

"Leave...? Leave them all?"

"Leave."

"But... the others. The human race, what's left of us... How can we leave them with Scarn? And... with the Children of Light?! Had you forgotten them...? I can't. I never will!"

"That's a very complicated life right there," said Darvin. "I like a simple life, myself." He stood up. "There's a lot of sights out there, Blake. Still. Even now. A lot of places to go, and this is the ship to take us to them. We've got ourselves a good bunch of people here... a good crew... once we've sorted out a few kinks." He smiled. "I think you really should start thinking about it." With that, he left.

Alone now in the refectory, she did think about it.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hello, Orac." Blake thought it best to start simply, not quite sure how to handle this most awkward of AIs. Before long, it became clear that would not necessarily help.

_"What is it now?"_

"Now...?" she puzzled. "I've never called you before."

_"I was addressing you as a species. Kindly state your intent."_

The crew of the Liberator were gathered on the flight-deck, Caul and Darvin at their stations while the others sat in a semi-circle on the forward couches. The small device Avon had entrusted to Blake, or _Mara_ as she had been then, was plugged into a convenient port and Orac's reedy, fastidious voice relayed through the same address system that produced Zen's rather more reverberating tones.

"To annoy _you_!" said Rissa, leaning forward and then collapsing back onto the cushioned back of her couch, giggling. She was enjoying this, a fact that may have had something to do with the nearly-empty cup of blue liquid in one hand.

_"In that, you have succeeded admirably. Might I suggest, given your track record, it may be unwise to become accustomed to the sensations associated with success."_

Rissa's response was one of delight. "Did it just insult me...? I can't tell...! Oh, that's brilliant! My turn... Ohhh... Your mother was a-"

"-Orac..." Blake interrupted. "Thank you for responding."

_"Your platitude suggests it was a matter of choice. I am programmed to respond when called. If not, do you imagine a being as advanced as I would deign to spend my valuable time at the beck and call of such as you? Get to the point of your summons."_

"Orac," began Darvin, throwing a _May I?_ look at Blake. "You've basically told us what we wanted to know, so thank you... There was one thing I was wondering, though... Did Avon leave any message with you...? For us..."

_"There is one file in my memory, marked for your attention... It is a placeholder only, no data archived."_

"That's a lot of use," breathed Juni.

"Orac," said Blake. "What is the name of this file?"

_"Project Avalon."_

* * *

"So..." Darvin considered. "You wanted a direction. This may not be it, but it's... something." He and Blake sat next to each other on the floor of one of the Liberator's corridors, leaning back supported by the hexagonal bulkhead.

"Enough to make you want to stay?"

"Who said anything about going...? I'm staying with you guys."

"Oh..." said Blake. "Good. Why the change?"

"Oh, no change. I'm planning to persuade you all to my point-of-view... I've got form with that, you know. I'm a very persuasive guy."

"You're a natural leader."

He waved his hand at her dismissively. "I'm just older than the rest of you."

"And wiser?"

"Not _that_ old."

"So," she continued. "You're planning to persuade the crew to join you and see the universe... Does that include me?"

"Of course. Don't you want to be persuaded?"

"Perhaps," she said ruefully.

"Then my work is half done."

"Avalon," said Blake abruptly.

"What about her?"

"What do you know about her?"

"What everyone knows... I even met her once or twice... _Well, met_... I was in the same room. I doubt the high and mighty Avalon would even have noticed the likes of me. You see, things got really bad in the war... I might have mentioned that once or twice..."

"Once or twice."

"It got _so_ bad that the Federation issued a pardon for Avalon, and for any former enemy who would be willing to join them and help... Not only that, it got so bad that not only did they _mean it_ , but Avalon _believed_ them. In she came."

"Did you like her?"

Darvin hesitated. "Wasn't expecting that question. Um... I didn't _not_ like her... She was beautiful... Kind of strange, not what I expected at all, quite, I don't know, fragile-looking, like a strong gust of wind might knock her over..."

"Go on."

"Well, she was a mature woman when I saw her, but when she won her first battles, she was just a girl... Really, I mean... Men older than I am now, hardened, experienced soldiers, would follow this little girl into combat... There's something there, something special. Unique, possibly."

Blake saw the angst in Darvin's expression. "What's wrong?"

"I can forget it most of the time, you've seen me... Forget I was ever part of that. But... I _was_. That girl, she was special, and what she was doing was right... And I..."

"I understand..."

"I was on the opposite side. The wrong side."

"Yes."

"I can hear you thinking. You're saying _It's not too late_ , aren't you?"

"Was it that loud?"

" _Yeah_ , not too late. Fair enough. But the thing is, I saw the bodies. Avalon won victories all right, against _us_ , against the Andromedans, but it didn't last. It can never last. And it always has a price. In the end, the _bodies_. While she goes on to the next battle."

"I see. You don't want to be among them."

"I don't want _you_ to be among them. Or Rissa. Or Caul. Or Juni or Faal, for that matter. You people are all I have, and you know what...? I don't want to see any of you among Avalon's noble dead. Or Blake's. Or Avon's. Is that so wrong...?"

"No, it isn't _wrong_."

"Have I persuaded you?" Their heads turned to look at each other, but Blake offered no reply.

* * *

**Proxima II**

_"It's time! Switch it on!"_

_"Switch what on?!"_

_"You know what!"_

_"That rubbish again...?! Go f-"_

_"On!"_

_"So...What's this we've been hearing about...?"_ Caster Baroon's long, androgynous features filled the holographic space in the centre of the club, light spilling into the darkest corners and a little even partially illuminating Del Grant where he sat in the shadows. _"No, not that little old end of the world again... That can keep, my people, that can keep... Well, isn't the world always ending...? Or is that just my permanent hangover...?"_

There was something neutral about Caster Baroon's voice, in that no two people tended to agree on whether it was the voice of a man or a woman, just as the face, from the limited view afforded, could lend itself to either interpretation. _"I've got something so much better for you,"_ Baroon crooned seductively, rhythmically. _"So, while the authorities waste their time some more trying to trace the location of yours truly... let me tell you what's been happening... Well, lots of things all told, but the biggie, the whopping biggie... Oh, sorry, got distracted there... is that those naughty old rebels have got themselves a new friendy wend... Whose name is B-B-B-_

 _-Ooh, is that the time already...? Bye, my people, love and kisses... More next time..."_ Ensconced in his booth, the faint ghost of a smile animated Del Grant's stony features for just the briefest moment. He took another drink.

* * *

_"Shuttle launch in four minutes... mark."_

The announcement, made in calm, measured tones, emanated from the speakers of the A/V unit in Lady Shilena's office just as Doctor Lenta Guld hurried in. "You're just in time..." said the First Lady, perched casually on a chair. " _Just_... Try to be more punctual," she admonished, looking round as her advisor joined her. Only someone who knew her as well as Dr Guld would perceived the wry humour and know not to be _too_ troubled.

"What's this...?" She peered at the screen, where two black-clad figures picked up the pace of their task - securing a manacled prisoner to a thin metal vertical beam placed incongruously in a long tunnel. "Is that... one of the shuttle launch tubes...? Sorry, I mean, one of the extraction tubes under the launch bays..."

"Yes, indeed." Lady Shilena's eyes were fixed on the screen, fascinated.

Dr Guld folded her arms, shifting her weight more to one side than the other. She was not an engineer, but she understood the basic principles of what would soon happen in that tunnel. In just under seven minutes, the exhaust of the shuttle's launch would travel along there so that its noxious constituents could be harmlessly contained by one of the Kapital's massive Extractors. The unfortunate prisoner, chained to the beam, would be incinerated, though not, Guld suspected, _all that_ quickly.

"An execution... Remarkable."

"Remarkable? Why?"

"Because we don't have the death penalty."

"Not officially, no..." said Lady Shilena. "What do you make of it?"

Dr Guld thought for a moment. " _Cruel_ and _unusual_ ," she said.

"You know, I don't think I've ever heard my husband summed up quite so aptly before."

"A bad death," Dr Guld mused as the prisoner, a terrified young woman whose wiry frame was lost in her too-large prison fatigues, was left to her fate, writhing against the chain tightly circling her waist three or four times. "What's the point, if not as an example? I mean, if this isn't to be disseminated publicly..."

"I'm sure he'd love to, but as you pointed out, technically this isn't exactly _legal_... Even President Scarn cannot be seen to be above the law... Not yet."

"I know her, don't I...? I've seen her face somewhere."

"Wondered how long it would take. Yes, she was one of the staff here, apparently."

"Of course..."

I wonder if he knows I have a tap on the video feed..." At her advisor's questioning look, Lady Shilena chuckled. " _That's_ the phrase the nice young man who set it up for me used." She shifted position in her chair. "The security sweeps prior to my arrival caught her with some rather unusual communications equipment... It didn't take too much persuasion to extract a confession."

* * *

The two secret executioners, bulky in their heavy black uniforms made of a coarse synthetic fibre, heads covered by cowl-like hoods that left only their grim, anonymous faces visible, hurriedly made their escape, their feet crunching on a floor coated like the rest of the tunnel with carbonised residue. Leaving via a large, heavy round hatch, they locked it securely behind them, no panic in their hurry, merely calm efficiency - they had done this before, and expected to again.

The clang as the hatch was sealed echoed loudly along the tunnel. The prisoner closed her eyes, trying to control her ragged breathing, before abandoning that and giving into her panic - the manacles rattled against the metal beam as she made a futile effort to topple it, rubbing her wrists agonisingly raw...

* * *

Dr Guld smiled. "Avalon?"

"By all accounts, that name was not _specifically_ mentioned... _But_..."

"It didn't need to be... Will that woman never give up? What will it take?"

"Killing her, I expect. It has been tried, you know. _Successfully_ , it was believed, but the problem is, she just won't _stay_ dead."

"Even if they do die, no one will believe it... as with Roj Blake."

"Oh, _Blake_..." mused Lady Shilena. " _Fine_ man, that. If only he had been a little more... pragmatic. A pity."

"They'll wonder why their reports have suddenly stopped, won't they...?" Though she usually prided herself on being imperturbable, Dr Guld involuntarily flinched as a flare of light made the screen white out. The link did not have sound, but she could imagine the screams for herself only too well.

"Yes, my dear," said Lady Shilena. "They will. And then, we shall see the response."

* * *

"How soon...?" demanded Avral, speaking quietly into the hand-held comm-device. She waited impatiently, settling, or at least trying to settle, into a more comfortable position. Crouching on the ruined stairway of one of Downtown's many dilapidated - or in the case of this one, abandoned - tenement buildings, she did her best to stay hidden from any possible observers.

To the average citizen, this building was insignificant, and she wanted it to remain that way.

 _"There may be a way..."_ the laconic reply crackled. _"How are you at bed-making?"_

"How are you at not wasting my time?" Avral shot back. "Can you get me in there or can't you?"

_"Maybe... It's going to be a bit tricky. Leave it with me."_

"I did leave it with you, I seem to remember. Where has that gotten us?"

_"You know why you're so irritable...? It's your suppressed desire for my body."_

Despite herself, Avral smiled, thoroughly disarmed. "That _would_ explain _so much_ , wouldn't it...? All right, I'll let you get on with it. Just don't take too long, please... This is _very_ important."

_"Righto... Out."_

"Out." Switching the device off, Avral stood and, after making sure there were no hidden observers, climbed the stairwell to the top.

* * *

It was not the only abandoned building in Downtown - or even in this specific district - to be _unofficially_ occupied, but it was almost certainly the only one to have a mobile paramilitary headquarters on the top floor, crammed with stores and makeshift living quarters. Over it all, the musty smell of too many people living in a confined space with not entirely adequate facilities. Acknowledging several hurried greetings as she went, Avral made her way to her own tiny quarters.

A few minutes later, a tall man somewhere around thirty, sturdy and stolid with sturdily and stolidly handsome features, took the same route through the HQ. "Where is she...?" he demanded. "Have you-?" Before he could finish the question, a casual nod directed Walar where he wanted to go.

Discarding the transparent plastic knee-length coat he wore outside - to protect his light cotton and linen clothing from the excess moisture in the atmosphere, and to blend in with the many Proximans who did the same - he went there in such a hurry that, to his horror when he realised it, he forgot the basic etiquette essential to make this sort of living arrangement tenable.

 _"Sorry..."_ he said, as soon as he had lifted the curtain aside, just too late to stop himself ducking under it. "Sorry, sorry, sorry..." He ended up hunched awkwardly in the narrow doorway. "Sorry," he said one more time.

"Why?" asked Avral. "What's wrong?" Her boots were discarded on the floor, the cloak hanging on a peg jutting from the flimsy partition wall, and as she spoke, she continued to remove her dark-red leather breeches before laying them on the bed with the matching tunic. That done, unconcerned, she stood facing him in her underwear.

Walar looked off to the side as he spoke. "I'm... I just heard. _Look_ , I'll just let you finish, all right... I'll come back." Absently, he scratched his head - the waxy concoction used to sculpt his hair into a short fin, the style of the average middle-class Proximan male, was making his scalp itch, especially under stress.

"No, tell me now," she said impatiently. "What is it?"

"You just... You can't do it. Go yourself, I mean. You're too important." Walar's rehearsed speech fell apart before he even opened his mouth, so off-balance was he.

"Oh... _I see_. I think you mean _my mother_ is too important, don't you?"

He paused. "That's _not_ what I mean," he said, sounding wounded.

"Why don't you try contacting her? Maybe she'll put a stop to my foolish behavior." That was said with a slight edge.

"There's no point," he said. "I know she doesn't like to show favoritism, and that's good, that's admirable, but sometimes... Sometimes, it's like she doesn't care."

Avral's expression changed to one of amusement at that, like someone enjoying a private joke not possible to share. "Yes... Sometimes, it does seem a little like that."

"I- We just don't want to lose you. Without you, we-"

"-I'd like to finish getting changed now, please."

"Wha- Yes, of course..." He turned to go.

"Walar..." Avral said gently, stopping him on his way. "It's just _me_ , almost, but not _actually_ , naked. We're soldiers. _Yes_ , you should knock, but it's really not that big a thing."

If she heard his murmured reply as he left, she never acknowledged it. _"Why can't it be?"_

* * *

_"Make this quick, all right... Oh. You're not Walar."_

"No," Del Grant acknowledged, face illuminated by the glow of the small holoscreen in front of him in the dingy, sparsely-furnished office.

_"Why the subterfuge?"_

"That's what it takes to get you to take my call in person, without wasting too much of my time. Is this secure?"

"All our communications are securely encrypted, Grant," said the dark-haired woman at the other end of the long-range call, her features relatively indistinct due to the image compression. "I think what you mean is, am I alone...? And the answer is, no, I'm not." He heard a slightly distorted laugh off to the side, that of another woman. "I'm never alone."

Grant was having to force himself to look at her, as if it was a painful experience. "If it's just your attendant, then that's... acceptable."

 _"Acceptable...?"_ crackled the unseen attendant's voice. _"Oh... Thank you, Del Grant...! I knew he liked me really."_

He remained focused. "You are aware that your _daughter_ has volunteered herself for a dangerous mission at the very heart of enemy territory."

"Is that a statement of fact, or a question?" inquired Avalon. "I'm confused."

 _"So is she,"_ Grant muttered to himself, looking away for a moment. _"That's the problem."_

"If it's a question, the answer is yes, I do know. Walar has already expressed his reservations. _Aaaawww_ , isn't he sweet? Shall _you_ tell him, or shall-"

"-If you ask to speak with her, she can't refuse."

" _Brave_ , isn't she...? I don't have anything I want to talk to her about." Avalon looked away from the screen for a moment. "And the reverse is certainly true. Avral doesn't want to talk to me. She never did. I can't say I blame her."

"I just..." He was struggling more and more with enduring this. "You know what I mean."

" _You're_ the one in charge," she said, with a slightly bitter tone. "Order her to send someone else."

"I seem to remember an agreement we had," he breathed.

"I don't see how I can help," she concluded abruptly. "And I don't see how this comes under the terms of our agreement. Is that all?"

Grant took a few seconds before he responded. "I think it probably is," he said heavily.

* * *

**The Liberator, deep space**

"Avon wants us to find Avalon," said Blake, turning to face the others assembled on the flight-deck. There it was. They all looked around each other, and mostly the reaction was the same. Bemusement. "Join up with her, if that turns out to be the best route. Or certainly form a joint strategy to tackle UniS."

" _Wants_ us to...?" queried Rissa. "Don't you mean, _wanted_?"

"She means _wants_..." said Darvin, perched on the end of one of the couches. "Avon is still with us... at least in spirit."

"Spirit...?" Rissa laughed. "You mean he's a ghost?"

"Not quite."

"Can we just get to what you do mean...?" Juni demanded shortly, leaning forward across her duty station.

"Well, what I mean," said Blake, "We've reached a point where a decision has to be made... We have something here. Perhaps something quite enviable. A highly advanced ship, capable of self-repair and more or less self-sufficient. Advanced medical facilities, weapons, high-value trinkets that can easily be converted into any currency we want... We have the means to-"

"-Be rich." That was Darvin. "All of us, many times over. Individually, we can be rich, and more to the point, safe. When you're rich, no one can touch you. You all know that..." He paused. "But together, and with this ship... You know what we have...?" He looked around them all. "Power."

"Power...?" scoffed Rissa. "Darvin... What are you becoming?"

"Older," he said without hesitation. "And a little slower than I used to be. I know you can't imagine that, not quite yet, but one day if you're lucky, you'll get there too. I don't necessarily want to be safe, not yet, but I don't want to die in a pointless, endless war that might already be lost to all intents and purposes. I want to be free."

 _"Beat that,"_ Blake breathed quietly, and then spoke to them all. "I'm glad you mentioned the word _free_. We are free already. But how many out there aren't...? Don't they deserve to enjoy something like the freedom we have?"

"What _do_ you want, Darvin?" asked Caul calmly, picking up on an earlier point.

"I... I want to go out there and explore. See if there's something better out there. _Help_ people, or help _beings_ generally, yeah... All _for_ that. Adventure, excitement, yeah... Well up for that, before I really _do_ get old. But I think staying in our own neighbourhood, just going over the same old insoluble problems, again and again... I think it can only end one way..."

He looked at Blake. "Gauda Prime..." he said quietly.

* * *

**1 hour later**

"Fancy meeting you here..." Darvin came to sit down heavily in the same spot in the corridor next to Blake. This was getting to be a habit. "We need a private office for you, I think. One with comfy seats."

"How do you feel?"

He thought for a moment. "Free... Is that strange? Now the decision's been made... I _do_ feel free. You disappointed?"

"A little." She looked over at him. "The ship is yours."

He met her gaze, and let the silence continue for a few seconds. "And the mission is yours. Till it's over."

Blake smiled faintly. "Then _that's_ yours too. And hopefully we'll all be able to join you."

"Faal was the one who surprised me, actually..." mused Darvin wryly. "I thought I had him. I took his complete silence as agreement. But then, I'm like that." He frowned a little. "You mean that? You'll come with me, when this is all done?"

"Try and stop me." Blake drew her knees up against her chin and held them there, face half-hidden. "I'm going to bring down UniS, somehow, I don't know how... and then the Children of Light too. But when it's over, someone else is going to have to rebuild something worthwhile. Roj Blake might have been able to do that, but that's not me. Best I disappear, I think."

"Into legend?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," came her muffled reply, her eyes smiling at him.

* * *

The shift on the flight-deck changed, Rissa and Faal taking over from Juni and Caul, and Juni left without a word. She and Rissa exchanged a brief glance - no snipes, no mockery, no grudges. Their truce was holding. More tired than she expected to be, Juni ran a hand through waves of red-gold hair as she climbed the steps leading to the rest of the ship.

Leading to her quarters. Of course. Where else would she be going?

She waited just off one of the main corridors, heart thumping. Not quite sure why she was here, or exactly what she was going to do, but feeling alive for the first time in... Well, as it turned out, this might be the first time _she_ had felt alive _ever_.

Having closed her eyes and breathed slowly and steadily for several minutes, she opened them again and looked up at the faint sound of footsteps getting closer. _"Caul..."_ she said quietly.

It was just loud enough, and he came off the main corridor to join her, curious and wary - She could not blame him. _"Which one are you again...? I've forgotten."_ She remembered saying that, and cringed slightly.

"Juni..." he said, still wary. "Are you all right?" A look of genuine concern. "Can _I_ help?"

She approached slowly and deliberately, giving him lots of chances to object if he was of a mind to, making her intentions sufficiently clear even for him. He was a little taller, just a little, but with her heels they were the same height. She put her arms around his neck and drew him in close, and held on to him tightly. A few seconds later, his arms closed around her too, holding a little less tight. Then nothing for a very long time, just standing there holding on.

Soft hair against his cheek, Caul gradually relaxed, though his mind was obviously working furiously. Eventually, hesitantly, he brought up one hand and smoothed down rogue strands of her hair gently until the movement settled into a motion that was regular and soothing, for both of them.

They said nothing.

* * *

**...**

**97 days later**

**...**

* * *

_Liberator_ settled into orbit around the green planetoid and made the tiny adjustments necessary to maintain geostationary orbit for the foreseeable future, before powering down its engines. The place was without a name, at least formally, known merely as TNDM-1939, and surface readings were automatically collated.

* * *

 _"INFORMATION..."_ said Zen. _"SURFACE TEMPERATURES AND OXYGEN LEVELS ARE LOW, BUT WELL WITHIN TOLERABLE PARAMETERS. RADIATION LEVELS ARE ACCEPTABLE FOR SHORT TERM EXPOSURE."_

"Thank you, Zen," said Darvin from the pilot's station, looking up. His tightly-curled black hair had grown out into a bit of a mane, and the ever-present stubble was a neat salt-and-pepper beard. He looked over at Caul. "They'll be all right."

Caul nodded, pretending to be unconcerned. He looked more or less exactly as he had since they boarded the ship, though in common with all of them, perhaps, his choice of clothes was becoming more flamboyant thanks to the choices offered by the wardrobe room.

 _"Of course we'll be all right..."_ crackled a familiar voice from the speakers. _"Why wouldn't we be all right?"_ Darvin and Caul looked up to see Faal walk slowly down the stairs and over to join them, and Darvin leaned over to speak into a discreetly-mounted microphone.

"I think you mean _Down and safe_ , don't you?" he said. "Can we have at least the pretense of a little discipline, here?"

* * *

 _"Sorry, yes... Of Course. Down and safe... captain. Sir My lord, my liege, my... everything..."_ Three pairs of feet were creating prints in the dust of planetoid TNDM-1939, carefully working their way down the gravelly slope into the main valley below the ridge they had arrived on. "Seriously, though," Rissa continued. "If we can't make this fun, what's the point?"

 _"Any chance we could put a grownup in charge of communications?"_ came Darvin's reply through her teleport bracelet.

Blake held down the switch on her own bracelet - she, too, had let her hair grow, hers into a slightly curly mop that obscured the tiny port high on her temple. "Down and safe, Darvin," she enunciated carefully. "Satisfied?" She looked over at Rissa and Juni with a faint smile. All three wore padded jackets over their choice from the wardrobe room, and even so they shivered against the cold. "Let's just find what we came here for and get back in the warm. How does that sound?"

"Like the best idea I've heard... Well, that's it really. The best idea I've ever heard," said Juni. "No wonder you're our leader."

"It's only because _I_ wasn't interested in standing," said Rissa. "You want to hear my platform, just for the sake of it?"

"Actually..." said Blake, peering ahead of them and looking a little alarmed. "You wanted _fun_ , Rissa... Well, does this count?"

"That's an interesting definition of fun," said Juni. "Teleport back up?"

"I don't think they've seen us."

"Not yet..."

"Darvin..." said Blake, holding up the bracelet to her mouth again. "I think this just got a little more _fun_."

* * *

**Proxima II**

_"Things they don't want you to know, number fifty-three thousand, nine-hundred and sixty-five..."_ mocked Caster Baroon. _"The big B, that curly-headed scourge of the Man, is back... and he's bad! He might be a little long in the tooth, but word is Blakey Boy has a new crew of bright young things doing his leg work, and... You know what, this time it might just work out..."_

"Have you heard from her _at all_...?" Walar's question, hissed across the booth, was urgent, and he was getting somewhat rattled as it became clear that Del Grant was apparently more interested in listening to that silly rogue news channel. "I said, have you heard from her? Does she report to you? I've asked her mother, again and again, but she says to ask _you_."

Grant tore himself away, just for a moment. "If so, I couldn't talk about it," he said. "You know that." He was pleased to note that, compromised as his feelings might be, even Walar was too much of a professional to utter Avalon's name in a public place.

"I... I know... It's just-" Walar made himself calm down. "I _don't_ want anything to happen to her. I've heard things... Horrible things." He took a breath. "I want to go in after her."

That got Grant's attention, and he stared at Walar fiercely. "That's not happening." There was a long pause. "You hear me?"

"I _hear_ ," Walar finally conceded, his choice of words precise. He too found himself listening to Caster Baroon, and frowned. "This thing's a front, you know... 'Word is that UniS are behind it themselves."

"Perhaps," said Grant distantly.

 _"Latest developments will be shared as they occur..."_ said Caster Baroon dramatically in a forced deep voice, mocking the severe tones of the mainstream channels. _"And don't any of you out there dare to look anywhere else... I, and I alone, will keep you informed about this momentous event... The return of the Blake Seven."_


	5. Chapter 5

_Liberator_ sped through space, its velocity in real terms many times faster than light - Standard by Six in the parlance of its builders, the System. An estimated 12.5 hours remained till its destination was reached.

Within, its six human - or in one case, humanoid - inhabitants. One manned the flight-deck, as at least one of them did at all times. One slept. One found herself so preoccupied by the prospect of what might await them at their destination that sleep remained elusive. _Four_ of them, at this precise moment, were alone.

 _Two_ were not.

When the ship's interior had been configured to accommodate this crew, their quarters had been arranged along the same habitation deck, and undeniably that was a convenient layout. One possible development had not been foreseen, however, and it had fallen to two of the crew to establish for themselves a discreet hideaway elsewhere, to pursue an agenda of their own.

"I'm going down there, when we get to this planet," she said quietly.

"You're on the landing party?" he replied. He too spoke very quietly. Lying as they were, limbs entwined, his mouth very close to her ear, there was no particular need for volume.

"It could be dangerous, couldn't it?" she pondered, turning her face toward his, and moved her hand up to rest on his pale, sparsely-haired chest.

"All of it is dangerous," he said. "We chose to risk it. _I wonder_ , if I suggested I go too..."

She smiled faintly. "No, best not. Your place is on the flight-deck, you're far more use there."

"Suppose so."

"And _let's_ not make anyone suspicious."

" _Why_...?" he asked. "We're not actually doing anything wrong."

"I know," she said. "I know... It's just, I like this, whatever it is we have here, the way it is right _now_. I don't want... _Oh_ , I don't know how to say this... _Please_ don't think that I'm-"

"-Embarrassed?"

She smiled again. "I'm embarrassed it took so long to get to... _this_."

"Was it all right?" He said it casually, but his nervousness was clear enough. There was a long - very long, for him - moment of silence.

"Am I the first...?" Juni asked, and Caul nodded. "I'd never have known," she said, gently mocking, and leaned over to kiss him. "So, back on... What was it, Pelios...? Never?"

"They tried to pair me once. Arranged a time and a meeting place. It didn't work out."

"What happened? Didn't you like her?" When Caul glanced over at her, something in his eyes made Juni think again. " _Him_...?"

" _She_ didn't like _me_ ," said Caul. "I... didn't feel anything at all. Then I just never got the summons again. I don't think they were pleased with either of us."

"I'm sorry about that," she murmured, running a slender finger along the line of his collar bone and back again.

"Why?"

"I did think, maybe you and Blake... _Mara_ , you called her then. Something Rissa said once, or was it Darvin...?"

"No," said Caul. "I _loved_ her... I still do, but not like _that_."

"How did _she_ feel about that?"

"Once she realised, we... had a talk. And after that, it was _very_ different."

"I see," said Juni, even though she didn't.

* * *

**14 hours later...**

Rissa watched from cover, completely still in a way only years of training and practice could instill. The ragged column was a good forty-five or fifty metres away, advancing - from her point of view - from left to right. Her augmented vision, one of the benefits of her artificial silver eyes, could pick out the individuals easily, and with a little adjustment could give her a good view of the two prisoners at the heart of the column.

Blake and Juni were being taken back to wherever these things - were they people? Rissa wasn't sure - had come from, guarded on all sides by the spear-carrying, mud-encased creatures that had attacked them shortly after they teleported down. Rissa's hand briefly went to her teleport bracelet on her wrist, as if to reassure herself it was still there. Then the bag with the spares... _Yes_ , still secure.

Erupting into motion, she moved swiftly, abandoning stealth to a necessary degree. Scrambling first up the gravelly slope and then back down the other side, she still took care not to be seen. This route would take her ahead of the column, and hopefully afford her a preview of their destination... Better to be prepared.

_I hope you know what you're doing, Blake..._

_Yes_. There it was... Nestled in the valley below, either side of the dismal trickle of water flowing - if its motion could be called that - down from the hills, the primitive settlement was bleak. A wind-blown, dusty collection of crude mud - _Hey, what else in this place?_ \- buildings on timber frames. _Where did the wood come from...?_ Rissa peered curiously around, but didn't see any sign of a single tree.

That's where the patrol was returning, with their prisoners - her friends. _Hey...!_ They really were that now, even Juni... Who would've thought that, three months ago?

* * *

"These are humans..." observed Juni. "Well, sort of. Underneath all that caked mud."

"Yeah," said Blake. "I wasn't sure either, at first."

"Protection against the radiation? Would that really work?"

"I doubt they have any idea why they're wearing the mud, it's just what they do. Certainly makes them look a little unnerving, anyway." Their captors squinted against the weak sunlight of their desolate world, eyes practically invisible. Every inch of exposed skin was encased in a thick covering of dried mud.

"I never did believe it was possible..." Juni pondered. "You know, human colonies gone wrong... I mean, to this extent!"

"Oh, it's possible, all right... There's quite a few of them scattered around. Fewer now, of course, thanks to the war..."

"Quite the expert."

"My tutor, back on Pelios... He was the expert." Blake paused and took a breath. "Alek... this was kind of his pet subject, and once he got started... Civilisation is fragile, and this sort of thing has happened on many planets colonised by Earth in the First Calendar."

"What it is to have an education..." said Juni, but with a faint smile. "Rissa certainly got out of there in a hurry," she went on, a little resentfully. "I thought she was the warrior."

"She is," Blake replied. "That's why I _told_ her to get out of there." Responding to Juni's querying glance, she added, "Well, aren't you glad she's out there right now?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Rissa can obey orders, and that's the bit I wasn't sure about till then." Blake looked doubtful of her own words. "Everything's under control."

Juni flexed against the crude rope binding her hands in front of her, and shot a resentful look back as one of the mud primitives prodded her with a spear - apparently she had moved out of line. "Glad to hear it."

* * *

 _"This place is everything we thought it would be, and less,"_ said Rissa through the comms on the Liberator's flight-deck. _"Darvin, can we cut this one short? I'm sick of this place already. It's such a- You know what, I'm going there...! It reminds me of home, that's how bad it is... I went there."_

"Yep," said Darvin, standing at the pilot's station. "You went there."

_"And you know I wouldn't do that lightly."_

"Keep in touch, Rissa... Continue to keep an eye on things, and if the slightest thing goes wrong, or you find anything down there... _Oh_ , you know what to do. Darvin out." He looked over at Caul, and raised an eyebrow. "It's going fine," he said, though who he was trying to reassure wasn't necessarily all that clear. "It _is_."

Caul examined the readouts on his station one more time - Zen would alert him at the slightest hint of another ship, but he trusted his own instincts more. "I don't know whether to hope they find what they're looking for," he said, "or hope they find nothing."

"I think I'd rather have a wasted journey too," said Darvin grimly.

* * *

**Proxima II**

Proxima Centauri rose over the horizon and gradually filled the deep shadows of the Kapital, and in the first hour of the morning a huge bank of water vapor formed over the vast cityscape before slowly dissipating. This, probably the most dense concentration of human life still in existence, slowly returned to life for another day, little knowing that the remaining days of this civilization were at this moment very much numbered.

"Tev Kopper...?"

"Who wants to know?"

One of the two nondescript-looking young men nodded briefly to the other, and they each grabbed one of the large bald man's arms and quickly wrestled him into submission before dragging him into the empty storehouse, then onward into the narrow space between two rows of storage shelving. Startled and thoroughly bewildered, the man was quickly abandoned by his two assailants, although he was only alone for a moment before someone else came in to replace them.

Walar loomed over him menacingly, or tried to - Inconveniently, Kopper wasn't that much less tall than he was. "What's this all about?" the affronted Kopper demanded, the bushy mustache that almost entirely hid his mouth moving in time with his words. " _Ohhhh_... Is _this_ about-? Look, don't worry, the transfer is done, it'll just take a while for it to appear on your- It's not about that, is it...?"

Walar shook his head slowly. "I need to talk to you."

"So talk," Kopper responded truculently.

"How closely are you supervised?"

"Supervised?" Kopper bristled. "I'm the one who does the supervising, mate! I'm in charge of this whole place... Oh, where's he going now...?" Kopper waited impatiently as Walar disappeared back the way he had arrived. " _Gimme strength_..."

* * *

Walar looked out onto the goods supply yard with a soldier's eye. This was the quietest time of the day - that was no accident - but even so there were a lot of people around, loading and unloading the large containers that arrived and departed on the powered conveyors, emitting only a low hum in the process. A pity. Walar wished for a little more noise, to make doubly sure his conversation went unnoticed. A brief glance at the two men standing guard for him, and he returned to the interrogation.

"Caught short, were you...?" inquired Kopper. "I know how you feel, my waterworks are playing up something awful these days. Still, comes to us all. Would've thought _you_ were a bit young for that, though."

Walar peered at the rotund depot manager curiously - Kopper could have been anywhere between forty and sixty, it was impossible to tell. "Where is she?"

"Pardon?"

"Where-? I haven't got time for this..." Walar slammed Kopper against the side of the shelving, with a lot more difficulty than he was expecting, but apparently only succeeded in amusing him further. "Just where did you send her?"

"Right," said Kopper. "I get it. I know who you're looking for. Red Ridinghood, I call 'er. And let me just say, I don't think you're doing her any favours coming here... Or yourself, for that matter."

"I'm not interested in your opinion, just _tell_ me. I need to get her out of there. She shouldn't even be there in the first place."

" _'_ Was a bit concerned, m'self. But ultimately, I figured, it's her decision. Sound mind and body, and all that. And our girl's pretty sound in both, let's face it."

"Seems like a military decision to me..." Walar's reply was scathing. "And... Oh, let's see, which of us does that best cover...?"

"Not so clear cut, mate. Andromedan wars veteran, right here... Both lots." Kopper's mustache, which up to now had been more or less level, was now turned down at the sides, indicating his severe displeasure. "And I've had ties with the guv'noress's organisation for... _oh_ , a good ten years now." The mustache straightened again. "What 'bout you?"

Walar found himself cowed into silence, but not for long. " _Things_... Things have changed. I've had intelligence-"

"-Not to worry. It doesn't show."

"She's in danger, all right?! I have to get her out of there!"

"Calm down, mate," said Kopper. "Calm down. Anyone would think... _Ohhhh_ , right." He chuckled to himself, face creasing into a smile . " _Dear_ oh _dear_... _Oh_ , mate..."

"What?"

"You're serious, aren't you...?" Kopper's turned away for a moment. "I thought you knew 'er. _Ooh_ , I reckon our girl's been playing you something rotten, mate. Y'know... Let me know if she does ever come clean, I wanna see your face."

"Just what do you mean by that?"

"Never you mind, sunshine..." Kopper leaned forward till their faces were very close together. "Just... never you mind." They stared at each other for a few moments, and Kopper looked like something had just occurred to him. "Tell you what, though... While we're standing here like this..."

"What...?" Walar demanded eagerly.

"Give's a kiss." Kopper chuckled as Walar angrily shoved him away. " _Oh_ , lighten up, mate...!"

"Red _Ridinghood_ is the... guv'noress's daughter...!" said Walar, stumbling over Kopper's odd turns of phrase. "Does that make a difference to you?!"

Kopper blinked. _"Get outta town."_

"I wish I could...! Are you going to help me or aren't you?"

Kopper sighed. "I'm gonna end up regretting this. If I get this wrong, she'll kill me. But that'll mean she's safe, so... still a win. Just... Don't you dare let me down, all right?!"

* * *

"Are you certain this is safe...?" Grant demanded to know, first and foremost. "Absolutely certain...?"

 _"It hasn't been up to now..."_ Avral's voice through the comms was totally clear, probably because geographically she wasn't at all far away. _"But rank brings privileges."_

"All right." Grant rubbed his eyes, more tired than he would admit. He reached for the half-full glass in front of him, and his hand hovered over it for a moment. "You know what you're doing by now," he said, and his hand moved away from the glass again.

_"Can I have that in writing?"_

He smiled. "Nothing in writing. First rule."

_"Wasn't that the second rule? After "do as you're told"?"_

He squinted. "Might have been. I think I've forgotten. But I'm pretty sure I remember the third rule..." _Always assume you're being monitored._

 _"Point taken."_ There was a pause. _"This is going quite well."_

"Really?"

_"Oh yes, I'm doing quite well indeed. This was absolutely worth doing. There's actually someone else here already, with the same interests as me. Has been for some time."_

"Would I know them...?"

_"Not sure yet... But I'll let you know."_

"I'll look forward to catching up with you, then. Any word on when that might be?"

_"Not yet."_

"Well, don't be a stranger."

 _"Never that. Unless you're planning to replace me..."_ The transmission was more than clear enough for him to detect the hint of reproach. _Some wounds never heal..._

"No..." he said, with a faint shudder. "There will only ever be one of _you_."

 _"I... I'm afraid I'll have to go now, father..."_ she said, clearly not alone now. _"Duty calls."_

"See you soon," Grant managed to respond before the transmission cut off, and hoped it was true.

* * *

"We thought something wasn't _right_ straight away..." said the security officer in a low-pitched drawl. "Then a routine check flagged him up... Didn't take long, even. He's one of _that_ lot, can you believe it? A known terrorist, and he just casually strolls in with a cleaner's pass - which absolutely checks out, by the way - that's a bit worrying... Then he doesn't even do any cleaning, he just starts to wander and snoop around the restricted areas like he wants to be caught."

"Right... Well done."

"Do you want to handle the interrogation...? It's your sector."

Avral looked up, trying not to appear distracted. The professional mask obscured the turmoil inside. Even as she pretended to consider the officer's question, she took another brief glance at the still on screen. Walar's face was set - defiant, determined. _Doomed_. "Stand by on that," she said. "Got a lot on today, and I might not have time."

" _Seriously_...?" the officer inquired, a little incredulous. "How often does _this_ sort of thing happen?" He looked alarmed for a moment, and his own mask descended. " _Um_ , sorry sir. Spoke out of turn, there."

Avral considered him for a moment. "I commend your enthusiasm, so I think we can overlook a little minor insubordination. This once."

"The prisoner will be waiting for you," the officer said, offering a salute as Avral walked away - her uniform was just like his, but with a brightly coloured flash on the right sleeve of her black tunic. "All right if we soften him up a little?"

"Absolutely," said Avral.

* * *

"They _might_ have untied our hands," said Juni irritably, walking in a tight circle around the limited confines of the hut in which she and Blake were imprisoned. Outside the single entrance, there were guards. Lots of guards.

Blake was sat on the rough earth floor, leaning back against the wall with her eyes closed. "That would have been kind of them, yes..." she said. "The trick is to keep your expectations low, when it comes to hospitality on planets like this."

"Thanks for the tip," said Juni, smiling graciously with her teeth only slightly gritted. She slumped against the wall and slid down it to sit next to her companion. "Blake...?"

"What?" Blake opened her eyes and turned to give Juni her full attention.

"Never mind," said Juni, apparently preoccupied.

"All right..." Blake smiled. "Well, if it comes back to you..."

"What was Pelios like?"

That was unexpected, and Blake appraised Juni for a moment before replying. "In what way? I mean, it's a big question. It's where I spent my entire life, from infancy up to... less than a year ago." It was difficult to believe that was all it had been.

"Did the authorities ever... _pair_ you with anyone?"

"You've been talking to Caul."

Juni did her best not to read anything accusatory in that, and took the statement at face value. "Yes..." She shrugged. " _Well_ , we shared a few shifts on the flight-deck, and then there was that time I needed his help with that-"

"-Juni, it's allowed." Remembering the initial question, Blake quickly added, "No. _No_ , they never did, for whatever reason. Maybe they didn't want me breeding with any of _their_ people. I was an alien in that place, and never knew it."

"So you've never...?"

Blake laughed quietly, and gave her an _I didn't say that_ look. "Caul was classified a Bee very early on, I think. But I spent a lot of my time at ground level, among the Cees and the other unclassified citizens, so I got away with quite a lot that would have been impossible on the upper levels. I should point out, though, that _breeding_ , as such, wasn't something I ever gave much thought to." She paused for a moment, considering. "Why now...? I mean, I don't mind you asking at all, and I'll tell you whatever you want to know. But what brought this on?"

"Nothing. _We_ just... don't often get a chance to talk, that's all."

"Well, I'm glad we are," said Blake, before casting a look around their prison. "Whatever the circumstances. And... while we are... I have to ask, what is it with you and Faal?"

Juni laughed. "I fell into your trap...!"

"No trap," said Blake amiably. "Just conversation. But you really don't have to-"

"-I'm a copy of his... _dead girlfriend_ ," said Juni, suddenly and frankly. "The girlfriend he wasn't supposed to have, and maybe didn't want any more anyway. I'm not actually Juni, I'm a clone." She splayed her fingers out in front of her as if to say _Finally, I told someone_ , the gesture inconveniently impeded by the rope around her wrists. "A copy, and not even a particularly good one. My memories have these... gaps. And then there's the nightmares... I see terrible things, but only kind of remember a fraction of it when I wake up... I think I'm remembering the crash that killed her."

Having let all that out in a rush, Juni took a breath and made herself calm down. "I'm not _me_." She smiled, grinned even, but her eyes just looked very scared. "I'm... I don't really know what I am."

Blake shifted position and touched her arm. "I thought for a while I might be the daughter of a clone. I wish I was. But apparently it's not possible."

Juni's eyes darted briefly to the side to look at her, but otherwise remained fixed straight ahead. "I only exist right now because Servalan couldn't let go."

"Because she loved you."

"She loved _Juni_."

" _You're_ the only Juni _I_ know," said Blake, a little quicker and louder than she had meant to, as several of the mud primitives entered the hut abruptly and dragged them to their feet. _"Back to work...!"_ she said breezily.

* * *

As they were escorted to the largest of the dwellings in the mud primitive's village, Blake and Juni were afforded an altogether better view of the place than when they had arrived, and what they saw did not please them. In an open space, tables were set up for a form of simple manufactory, and lots of the mud primitives - women and children, mostly - were stuffing a peculiar crumbly material - not mud, for a change - from sacks into metal capsules a few inches across. The capsules were smooth, coloured a deep blue and clearly the product of a technology far beyond the people handling them.

Blake and Juni glanced at each other. "We need a sample of that," Blake said under her breath.

"Why bother?" asked Juni. "I think we know what we're going to find."

"We need to be sure." Blake was downcast, but still clinging onto some remnant of hope. "I've never wanted to be wrong about anything quite so much as this."

"Low expectations, Blake..." said Juni cheerfully. "That's the trick." Blake gave her a rueful look, but Juni had one more thing to add. "Heroes are just villains you don't know much about yet."

"Shall we...?" Blake asked, as the mud primitive guards prodded them with their spears, bidding them enter the largest dwelling.

"Oh, I'm not sure I feel like it right now," said Juni. "Perhaps another day." As a spear was prodded into her back, she rounded on the carrier of said spear. "I didn't mean it, all right?! I'm going!"

* * *

 _"I really don't like the look of this,"_ said Rissa to herself as her friends were led out of her sight, and it was an understatement of her actual feelings. Carefully, staying under cover, she ran in a crouching position along the perimeter of the mud primitive's village. Like Blake and Juni, she saw the crude manufactory and the non-native technology, and her heart sank. _All right_ , she hadn't bought into the mythology the way Blake or some of the others had, but it was still a disappointment. She wondered if it would be possible to sneak a sample right now...

 _Probably not_. She stayed very still as a patrol of the spear carriers moved by, and then eventually resumed her tour of the perimeter. Seeing another unusually large gathering of the primitives, she found a position to watch them unobtrusively. When she realised what they were doing, a jolt of adrenaline shot through her and her heart pounded.

 _Oh, what the hell..._ The teleport bracelet was quickly raised, and she was speaking into it in a low voice. _"Darvin..."_ she said. "You'd better not be on the toilet right now... Answer the-"

_"What...? What?"_

"Darvin, I don't know what's happening to them right now, because it's an indoor event, but I'm fairly sure I know what's next on their itinerary, because I'm looking at it..." She looked up again, and saw the preparations going on in the centre of the village. A complicated wooden framework was being assembled, strong and sturdy, hanging over a pit, broad but fairly shallow, in which dried sticks and what looked like it might be straw were being dumped. Again she wondered where these materials were coming from...

Pots of what appeared to be more of the ever-present mud were bubbling away at the sides, and large quantities of rope were being piled up. Rissa did not like the look of this at all. _"Darvin...!"_ she hissed into her bracelet. "The good news is, our friends are likely to be fed very soon... The bad news is who they're going to be fed to...!"

 _"Stand by..."_ said Darvin, distracted.

Rissa couldn't quite believe that. " _You_ stand by," she said, and cut off the communication. "I'm off the leash!"

* * *

"Continue to monitor," said Darvin to Caul, voice as stern as his face. At times like these, it was actually possible to imagine him as the Federation officer he had been. "Faal, deep scan, while they're still settling... What kind of ship is that?"

Faal held up a hand for a moment, before finally offering his verdict. "Planet hopper," he said. "With external cargo hold. No match for _Liberator_."

"Nothing else?"

"Nothing yet," said Caul. "Darvin-"

"I know...!" Darvin went back to the comms. "Rissa... Rissa, respond please...! Rissa!" As the other two looked on, increasingly alarmed, he took his finger off the switch and threw up his arms in his frustration before slamming them down onto the pilot's console.

* * *

"You wanted to see me...?" Avral's voice held all the slight disbelief that could be expected in the situation, but little of the alarm she actually felt, as she was escorted into the First Lady's office by her personal guards.

"Ah... Yes, my dear..." said Lady Shilena, turning her chair around, and throwing a brief glance toward Dr Guld standing nearby. "I did, I did... I think... we have something to discuss, you and I..."


	6. Chapter 6

**Planetoid TNDM-1939**

"I don't know what I expected when they shoved us in here," mused Juni quietly. "But I know I didn't expect to be bored."

"No," Blake agreed. The two of them were kept waiting at the side of the large interior space, in the shadow of an overhanging upper floor supported by wooden posts, while on the other side, as well as the ever present mud primitives, two visitors sat at a crude trestle table playing a board game.

Blake, back when she had been called Mara, had seen a variant of the game on Pelios, even played it, and understood it was available in various forms throughout the galaxy. And that was not the least of the clues that told them the two men were not from _here_ \- their clothes did that. Of simple, smart cut and subdued hues, but nonetheless of expensive materials, the clothes of wealthy men, barely touched by the dirt and dust of this environment.

One of the two men glanced over. "Shall we?" he said in a bored tone. "I think they've been kept stewing long enough."

 _"Stewing,"_ said the other one, and laughed. "Why not? I think our friends here prefer a roast, mind you..."

"Yes," the first one said, smiling at the observation. "It will take a little time for the others to get here, so let's amuse ourselves in the meantime."

"Do let's."

"Names!" the first man, short and stout, greying hair slicked back, suddenly barked at Blake and Juni. His companion, taller and lean, around the same age, sat back in his seat and watched with interest.

"Names?" pondered Blake, and glanced at her companion. "Do we have those?"

"No," said Juni. "Never had any need for one. What about you?"

"-Let me be clear..." the first man said. "We are certainly curious why and how you came to be here, but that curiosity will not keep you alive, or safe, with any reliability. If we indicate to our friends..." - he indicated the mud primitives - "that we are finished with our questioning, you will be taken swiftly from here to suffer a particularly excruciating and lingering death. Now, with that in mind, even though I do not have to, I shall introduce _my_ self. _I_ am Mister Rist. _This_ is Mister Lim. We are traders, and for one reason and another, we don't like spies. Now, what are _your_ names, and why are you here?"

"Was that supposed to scare us?" Blake demanded.

"Yes," said Mr Rist.

" _Oh_ , yes," said Mr Lim.

"Very well, then," said Blake casually. "My name is Blake, and this is Juni, one of my followers. Our mission is broadly to... help people, I suppose, and our particular reason for being _here_ is to investigate the source of a particularly nasty psychoactive chemical being used to subdue and enslave several unaligned planets currently resisting attempts to make them join Unified Systems... We've seen this material extracted and capsuled in refining pods just outside, so obviously we haven't had a wasted journey. Was that enough information, or do you want more?"

It took a while for the two men to form a response, such was their astonishment, but when it came it was almost explosive. Their laughter lasted for quite some time, throughout which Blake and Juni stood calmly, waiting. At last, recovering, Mr Rist struggled to speak.

" _Oh_..." he said. "Thank you... I haven't laughed like that..." He turned to Mr Lim. "When was the last time? No...?" He turned back to his prisoners. "Sincerely, thank you. That was a lot to take in, though, and you didn't even let us react to _My name is Blake_ before starting on the rest. So, timing slightly off, but your material is top notch. Indeed, very good."

"All true," said Blake. "Every word. Now, Mister Rist and Mister Lim, who do you work for?" They laughed again, long and hard, and Blake and Juni exchanged glances. "You're only making it more difficult for yourselves," said Blake, provoking more laughter.

Slowly recovering, Rist beckoned one of the mud primitives over with a bundle, which he unwrapped carefully on the table - Blake and Juni's confiscated possessions, including their guns and teleport bracelets. "Now," he said. "What are these?"

"So you run the business, to give _them_ deniability, is that it?" asked Blake. "But exactly who are _they_?"

"I know what my colleague Mr Lim thinks," said Rist. "He's a bit of a history buff is Mr Lim, and he has a notion of what these objects might be, but I want to hear it from you..." As Lim nodded, Rist held up one of the bracelets. "Oddly enough, what you've said so far rather concurs with Mr Lim's theory." He looked again at Lim, who shrugged.

"Can I ask a question?" said Juni.

"Oh," Rist said to Lim. "This one makes me somewhat sorry we're not still in the people business, Mr Lim... She really is quite special, is she not...?" Lim nodded again.

"I'm still _here_." Juni tried to let the full extent of her annoyance show. "What I want to know is, if this is being done in partnership with or on behalf of Scarn, why isn't the work being done in some high-end facility? Rather than... _well_ , in _this_ place."

"What about that one?" Lim indicated Blake, like Rist ignoring Juni's question.

"Not so pretty, obviously, but I think she has a certain something..." Rist mused, meeting Blake's ominous gaze with wry amusement. "There is a real strength of character in that face, isn't there? Not as conventionally attractive as the other one, but back in our day we could have made a pretty penny on both of these two."

"Well, the bottom fell out of the people market," said Lim. "We were right to get out when we did." The two of them laughed throatily at their private joke.

"I think that the right buyer might even have given us more for this one... This _Blake_ ," said Rist. "A real pity they probably have to die, and in _such_ a manner too..." He spoke to _her_ at last. "Blake _what_...? Or rather, _What_ Blake?"

"I'm not _anything_ Blake," she replied. "I'm just Blake. It's the only name I need."

"It _is_ the modern way, Rist," said Mr Lim, and his partner grunted in response.

"Listen to me," said Rist, all trace of humour in his voice gone. "You're not the first to try to interfere with our business on this planet, and all the others have died out there, died screaming, roasted on our friends' fire or else caked in mud and baked alive. Not a good end, either way. You understand me? Your chances of avoiding that fate are very, very slim, but not quite non-existent. Not yet. Just tell me who sent you, and give me something I can use against them, and we can talk. If not..." He raised his hand, and at the gesture the mud primitive guards stirred on the edges of the dwelling and moved in around them, still hanging back a little.

 _"Blake..."_ Darvin's voice crackled from the teleport bracelet in Rist's hand, and he almost dropped it. _"Blake, if you can hear me, get ready for trouble..."_ Before he had finished, the whole place was shook by an explosion outside, dust and fragments of the building shaken loose and cascading down on them. Much commotion was heard outside, the mud primitives audibly scrambling to meet whatever threat faced them.

Blake and Juni looked at each other, and smiled secretively. _"Rissa,"_ they said together.

* * *

**Proxima II**

Avral was standing in front of a screen showing the feed from Walar's detention cell, just staring, when the summons came. Her mind went around and around the problem, getting nowhere. Looking at the set features of the man she... had come to find reasonably personable, she was surprised at how little anger she felt. At _him_ , at least. She _did not_ feel for him, did not and _could not_ feel, what he apparently did for her, but he _was_ her friend - of sorts - and certainly her comrade, and in combat she would unhesitatingly trust him with her life.

This _was_ combat, she realised. Walar had made a mistake. Had she _never_ made one of _those_...? Even before the messenger, in her robe of Mekatir blue, came to deliver the message, Avral had made up her mind what she was going to do.

" _Thank you_ ," she said, deceptively calm. "I will attend the First Lady immediately." Her stomach was in knots as the young woman glided away from the security section back to Lady Shilena's wing of the palace. Had she been discovered? How could that have happened...? Walar hadn't even been interrogated yet, and even then she was confident enough it would take a great deal to make him betray _her_.

This would be her first face to face encounter with Shilena Mekatir, but she knew of the fierce intelligence hidden behind the old woman's apparent mildness. It could be something entirely innocuous, a meet and greet with the youngest and fastest-rising security officer in her service... or it could be a trap. Or anything in between.

Taking a breath that rattled slightly in a throat constricted by tension, Avral went to find out. As an apparent afterthought, in a gesture that could easily be missed by an inattentive viewing of the footage later, she quickly cancelled the electronic locks securing Walar's cell.

It would be some time before that act was traced back to her, and she would deal with that when the time came. Finally, once more, she felt less guilt than she did anger at Walar for forcing her to abandon this mission just as it might be getting somewhere...

As if prompted by that, her personal comm-unit beeped for her attention, and she glanced at it. When she saw the ID - or lack of it - she moved out of sight to quickly skim the accompanying message, coming in as text.

Always text. A little early to fully trust each other.

 _THEY'RE MOVING_ , it read. _INTELLIGENCE HAS BEEN RECEIVED AND THEY MIGHT BE ON TO ONE OF US. I JUST DON'T KNOW WHICH ONE._

Who was this? Avral had yet to find that out, and found herself wondering if Del Grant knew of this _other_ agent, whoever it was... Did they work for him? Or for... _her_? Or for someone else entirely? Would Del really keep her in the dark like that, when her life might depend on that knowledge?

Perhaps that was it. His protectiveness might be the very thing making him keep this from her. _I'm not your daughter, Del Grant, whatever you might wish, or I might-_

Accordingly, having given her enough time to read it, the message vanished from her unit and deleted all traces of its presence. Avral leaned against the wall of the corridor for a moment, mind racing, till a party of administration staff passed by and she went on her way again briskly before they could register anything unusual about her presence there.

Distantly, elsewhere in the complex, alarm sirens could be heard. A prisoner was escaping on the detention level.

* * *

"I think... we have something to discuss, you and I..." said Lady Shilena, as Avral stood before her, keenly aware of the First Lady's own elite guards standing near the door. Her chances of overcoming them, if it came to that...? Less than zero. "Thank you for coming so promptly."

"My lady." Avral's response was straightforward and noncommittal. "I have just received word. The insurrectionist captured last night has escaped somehow. I must-"

"-That's in hand," said Dr Guld calmly. "No need to concern yourself with that for now, it will be dealt with."

"I _am_ sorry, I'm very good with faces but terrible with names..." said Lady Shilena, dragging Avral's attention back reluctantly.

"Dela, my lady. Security lieutenant."

"Ah, yes. As I say, I never forget a face, and I feel sure I have seen yours..."

"I have had the honour of attending you on three of your public engagements, my lady."

" _Yes_ , of course, but I meant... Oh, never mind me, I don't know quite what I mean... When you have lived as long as I have, you know, you will find this peculiar sensation more and more, the finding of familiarity where it is least expected." Avral, with no idea where this was headed, but decidedly on edge, did not even think of interrupting - Security lieutenant Dela would never interrupt First Lady Shilena.

"I'm afraid I have begun to experience it already," said Dr Lenta Guld, standing unobtrusively, and till now silently, off to the side. "But then, that may be a consequence of my responsibilities rather than..."

"Advanced age...?" suggested Lady Shilena. "You may say it. I have few illusions, at this stage."

"What I meant to say is, I too see the same old faces cropping up again and again," said Dr Guld. "But then, true enemies of the state do tend to be somewhat persistent." She stared at Avral levelly, her expression giving nothing away.

"If I may ask, and forgive me if I am being is in any way inappropriate," said Avral, "How may I serve my Lady?"

"She is very lovely to look at, isn't she?" said Lady Shilena, talking to Dr Guld. "Oh, I know, you'd much rather be recognised for your professional abilities, my dear, and believe me, you have been, but allow me to admire for a moment, please... And remember... Yes, remember..."

Avral tensed, every instinct screaming at her, and tried to position herself where she could at least see the guards in her peripheral vision, so she would have a little warning if they moved to seize her... _Stupid...!_ Grant had been right, Walar had been right, even Tev Kopper had been right when he had gently tried to suggest this was a bad idea... But then she hadn't foreseen that someone, let alone the First Lady herself, might recognise her merely for her supposed resemblance to her mother...

Had Shilena even met Avalon...? It didn't matter, it would be easy enough to find out what she looked like. Again, Avral cursed her own stupidity, and braced herself for the consequences.

"I also," Lady Shilena continued, "I was beautiful, in my day. I know that is difficult for you to believe, but then that was somewhat long ago... Beautiful enough to make a certain young nobleman take leave of his senses and determine to marry me, against all custom, against the objections of his people and mine, against... Well, against everything except his own will... and _mine_. _Oh_ , it wasn't President Scarn, he has always been consistently... _himself_ , young and old. No, I speak of another young man, a quite _beautiful_ young man... He was the son of the ambassador from... Oh, where was it...?" She pretended to struggle to remember. "Ah yes, Thearon... It was Thearon. The son of the ambassador from... Thearon."

Avral's heart missed a beat, as she finally knew without doubt this was not the harmless meandering of a wandered mind, but a calculated, insidious attack. _She_ was half-Thearonian, the man she spoke of could only have been her father, and the old woman knew it. She glanced over at Dr Guld, but the First Lady's advisor just seemed a little bored, if politely so.

"Think of it, _eh_ , girl...? Almost ten years my junior, he was, and I recently widowed... _But_ , for one reason or another, it was not to be. _Too many_ objections, and we both lost heart. My suitor ended up marrying very differently in the end, to someone a little more than ten years _his_ junior. Particularly galling for me, that, in a manner I'm sure you cannot imagine as yet, but one day you might..."

"Lady..." Avral began, with no idea what she meant to say after that. She could hear her own heartbeat, but still tried to give no outward sign of her anxiety.

"He was, by that time, a leader among his people. She was a leader of the resistance, moving from planet to planet inciting revolt against Federation rule. A political match, it was, to secure an alliance it was hoped would at last topple the Federation... Of course, they only had to wait a little longer, and the Andromedans would turn up again and begin doing that job for them... _Ha!_ "

"Were they happy?" asked Dr Guld, and locked eyes with Avral. They held each others' gaze as Lady Shilena replied.

"Who can say? I know very little of what transpired between my beautiful young man - not so young, by that time - and... the future Chairperson Avalon, save that they _did_ produce a child... A girl. Something my barren husband, our illustrious President, was never able to beget on _me_ or anyone else, despite his prodigious efforts, which is why one of his dreadful cousins will be his successor when the time comes."

"It seems to me," said Avral, her eyes shifting to lock with those of the First Lady, "that a marriage founded in political expediency need not necessarily be an unhappy one. Not entirely."

"So they _say_ ," Lady Shilena acknowledged, her eyes bleak. "He _died_ ," she said abruptly. "Lost in the war, with more than half the human race... So did the child along with him, _although_... There have always been rumours to the contrary... How like Avalon it would be to protect her daughter by such subterfuge."

"It sounds like she was a very caring person, always more concerned for others than herself..." Avral said that quietly, looking at neither of them now. "Perhaps too much so." She turned to look at Lady Shilena as she spoke again.

"His face has faded in my memory, but his _eyes_... I will never forget those eyes... I never thought to see them again." _Till now_ hung in the air unspoken.

* * *

 _Wouldn't it be gorgeous if this thing had explosive rounds...?_ That was all Rissa said - or rather, _thought_ \- as she fired her Liberator-issue hand gun indiscriminately around the settlement. She was as surprised as any of the mud primitives when a shot actually set off an explosion that demolished one of the buildings in fiery ruin. Was that all she had to do...? Think, and it would obey? That thought was exciting for a weapons enthusiast like her, for the moment or two it took to realise the building had probably been used to store unstable chemicals.

 _Ah well._ Still a good gun. Leaving cover, she strode down the main street, letting them all see her, the weak sunlight flashing off of her silver eyes and inspiring superstitious awe in the mud-caked inhabitants. "Bow before your god...!" Rissa yelled delightedly, laughing manically. "No, forget bowing... Kneel before your god! Yeah, kneel! That's right! Kneel! Till I think of something else for you to do..."

Oddly, some of them actually obeyed, but soon a party of spear-carrying warriors arrived, and they were not for bowing or kneeling. Several of them came at her, and Rissa was careful to stay well out of their range while firing shot after shot at their heels and just past their heads... _No killing_ , Blake had said. _Unless it proves absolutely necessary_. Well, that didn't need to entirely spoil her fun, did it...?

She sprinted from place to place, firing off shots every time she stopped, slightly out of breath now, but enjoying herself enormously. _Off the leash_ , she had said, and that was exactly how she felt. When she heard the voice, apparently speaking to her directly, she searched for the source with a feral quality to her movements.

 _"You there...!"_ the voice called. _"You might wish to rethink this approach! We have your friends, and we have weapons like yours also! We're not all primitives here!"_

"You may have weapons!" Rissa answered, before moving to new cover. "But do you have the skills to use them properly...? I have!"

* * *

"She really has," Blake confided to Mr Rist, before one of the primitives grabbed her and shoved her onward, Juni right behind them. Hurriedly, the primitives brought their prisoners to the large wooden framework over the shallow pit, and prepared to secure them both. Juni looked up at it, askance, and over to Blake with a look that said _What now?_

"I've had enough of this," said Rist, ill-tempered now, and turned to the primitives. "Do as you will with these two." He turned to Mr Lim. "Let us deal with this one, my friend. Been a while, has it not?"

"It has indeed, Mr Rist," his partner replied. "It has indeed."

As they moved away, Blake and Juni struggled against the primitives as they began linking more rope to that around their wrists, and bringing over crude ladders. Blake savagely elbowed one of them in the face, but the force of the blow was limited and the primitive quickly recovered and resumed his work. "Blake!" Juni yelled, alarmed, as she was shoved against one of the ladders and more of the primitives began securing her to it. Others were lighting the fire in the pit. "Are you sure you've got this right?!"

* * *

"I don't like this," said Darvin, slamming his artificial hand down on the pilot's station and startling Caul. "Well, I never did, but now I _really_ don't like it." He started to climb down. "I'm going down there."

"No." Darvin and Caul both looked over at Faal, and as ever searched for expression in the long solemn face.

"Faal?"

"I will go."

"You're sure?"

"I said, I will go." With that, Faal turned and went to obtain a gun.

"If you're sure..." Darvin said, probably unnecessarily.

* * *

"Come to _us_ , my dear," crooned Rist, advancing with surprising grace for a man of his build. He glanced over at Lim, and signaled him to move round in the opposite direction and trap their opponent between them. Nodding, Lim disappeared from view. "Let's get this over with quickly...!"

 _"No, thanks,"_ called Rissa, startling Rist, who expected the voice to come from a little further away. "That weapon of yours, that's illegal isn't it? Causes death by internal displacement!"

Rist laughed, recovering quickly from his discomposure and adjusting his plan. "That entirely depends," he said. "On where you are, and who you know!"

 _"Yeah!"_ Rissa replied. "Well, just so you know, I'm going to kill you with it. My own weapon is just too kind, so I'll just use it to disable you."

"Funny, my dear!" yelled Rist, taken aback and a little disturbed. "Very amusing!"

 _"So I've been told!"_ replied Rissa, again from a different location, one rather closer to him than expected. Her shot was precisely fired, and took Rist's legs out from under him, making him cry out with pain.

"My legs!" he yelled. "My legs! You-"

Moving in swiftly, Rissa kicked him in the face and confiscated his gun, examining it with interest. "Nice..." she said admiringly. "I mean, horrible... but _nice_."

"Stop right there..." Rissa turned her head slowly to see Lim creeping up behind her, and smiled faintly at him. He kept the gun trained on her, his expression grave. Lim wasn't planning to play any kind of game, and would shoot without hesitation if she moved. His eyes flicked over for a moment as smoke began to rise on the other side of the settlement. "That's your friends..." he told her. "We'll start to hear the screams any moment now... What do you think of that?"

Rissa smiled again, and moved swiftly. Lim fired.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Liberator**

_The first..._

Eyes closed, Blake took a slightly shuddering breath, and then looked up and around the others assembled on the flight-deck. _The first_ , she heard, or was it just _felt_...?

"First..." she began, and stopped. _Only the first_.

The others waited patiently. If there was an accusing quality to their gaze, it might only be in her imagination. "First of all..." she said, and halted again, collecting her thoughts. "First, I want to..."

She didn't know what she wanted to do. _No_ , she did. She wanted to run, run as far and as fast as she could away from here. Away from the responsibility, away from the-

 _No_... She made herself continue. They were waiting. "This was my fault," she said. "I want it to be clear to all of you that I fully acknowledge that." The others listened raptly as she calmly and rationally explained her position to them.

The others. All four of them.

* * *

**Planetoid TNDM-1939**

"Blake...! Blake...! Tell me this is all right...! This is the plan...?! Right?! The plan!"

The mud primitives worked with a practiced swiftness, and the strength of their muscles and sinews made resistance a futile gesture. Blake found herself dragged back out of the way of their preparations, back toward one of the bubbling pots of clay or mud, and held rigidly by two of the tribe as Juni was ruthlessly prepared to be the first of them to die. Blake found herself staring mutely at Juni's wide, terrified eyes, offering no answer to her demands for reassurance. Listening for Rissa's approach, or anything, however tenuous, that might offer some kind of hope, Blake was close now to panic.

She had never panicked. Not on Pelios, or Gauda Prime. Not at Galaxy city, or on Earth. Not in any of the hundred places since where she had faced danger. None of them had ever felt like this, none of them had been as overwhelming. They really were going to die.

Worse than that, she was going to have to watch Juni die before she met her own agonising fate at the hands of these creatures. And she could do nothing.

"Get off me...!" Juni writhed as the primitives bound her to the crude ladder, and felt the heat on her back, the heat of the growing fire in the pit. "Get-!" They tied a gag over her mouth to stifle her protests, and she screamed through it as the ladder was shifted round to face the pit and held precariously near the edge.

"No!" Blake cried, struggling uselessly, panic getting the better of her at last. "Juni...!"

* * *

"It wasn't just you," said Darvin from his position at the pilot's station. "We've all been reckless."

"Well, that's pretty generous of you, frankly..." Blake replied. "Considering you were the one who wanted to leave all of this and go and do something else entirely."

"Not generous," he countered. "It's the truth."

"You don't have to do this, Stev..." She looked up at him, something just a little reproachful in her expression. "It's not your role."

* * *

Rissa smiled, and gave herself over to it. The feeling, the joy... the strength battle gave her. The intoxicating rush of danger, the almost sexual release of swift action... Time seemed to slow as she let herself fall backwards, and felt the crackle of energy in the air above her arched torso as she dropped. Slapping the ground, she rolled and was quickly on her feet again, and firing without even aiming, firing where all her instincts judged her opponent to presently be...

 _Ha...!_ The fool had no training - he was exactly where he had been a moment ago! Her shot, glancing though it was - she had given him too much credit and assumed he would be on the move - dropped Mr Lim like a stone. Rissa moved on.

To find her original opponent, Mr Rist, blood seeping from his jaw where she had kicked him, pointing his gun at her. In tremendous pain though he was, it was his turn to smile.

* * *

"No, Darvin's got a point," said Caul, occupying the station slightly below and to Darvin's right. "You might lead us, but only because we consent to that. And you've never forced us into a mission. Any time anyone has had an objection, they've been talked round. No one went into this blind, and that includes-"

"-Thank you, Caul..." said Blake, in such a way as to leave him in no doubt he was to stop talking immediately, a tone and a look he recognised from their months working and living together on _Flame_. "Thank you."

* * *

Faal arrived, at his request and risky though it was, much nearer the primitive settlement than the first landing party. Getting his bearings swiftly, he started to make his way there at a brisk walk and as an afterthought, feeling the teleport bracelet chafe his narrow wrist, he activated it and quickly assured the others on the ship, "Down, and safe."

 _"Acknowledged, Faal,"_ Darvin replied. _"Report in at standard intervals."_

Nearing the settlement, Faal crouched in hiding and his best to assess the situation. He was no military man, but he was determined to help his companions get out of this situation safely. Whatever it took.

His brow furrowed, an extreme emotional response for him. It looked like that goal would be very difficult to attain.

* * *

It was an indirect intervention that spared Rissa the shot Rist fired at her, as some of the mud primitives' mates and children came running for cover at the approach of... _What_ , exactly...? Crouching down after almost casually kicking the gun from Rist's now-fragile hand, Rissa cuffed him with her hand to incapacitate him, then turned to face the oncoming threat.

_Faal!_

Rissa bounded up and almost hugged him, before remembering that wasn't his style and bumping against him peculiarly instead. "Faal! Welcome to the field!"

"Thank you," he replied, not sure what else to say.

 _"So sorry to interrupt this touching reunion,"_ gasped Mr Lim, getting back on his feet - Rissa peered at the end of her gun. "Does this thing work?!" she demanded.

She threw it with precise savagery at her opponent, and it struck Lim on the side of the head just as his gun fired. Rissa dropped to the ground again, feeling a peculiar sensation she suspected might be the blast passing uncomfortably close to her, much closer than before. In her tumble, she took Faal down with her, and the two were momentarily tangled before she managed to extricate herself.

"Faal...? You all right?"

He did not respond immediately, but with a slightly pained look on his face he nodded and accepted her hand to help him up - The Clonemaster was somewhat heavier than she would ever expect him to be given his slender form.

She rushed over to make sure Rist and Lim were properly incapacitated this time, and removed both their guns, removing the cartridges from one and putting it in her pouch for later study. The other she hefted, feeling the weight and finding it to her liking.

"Blake might want to question these two," she said to Faal, who was still looking somewhat winded, and then her eyes widened as she stared up at the column of smoke rising from the other side of the settlement. "Blake!"

* * *

"-Oh, what does it matter...?" On the flight-deck, Rissa slammed her hand on the side of the couch she was sitting on. "No, that's not what I meant to say... It matters, of course it does. But we all knew the risks, and we all took them anyway."

Her outburst was followed by several moments of silence, awkward yet pregnant, as if a fragile bubble had been broken, and now... Anything could be said and done.

* * *

"Juni..." Blake murmured quietly, trying once again to resist the implacable grip of her two attendants, as her friend was angled down on her ladder toward the rising flames. Juni's head turned to the side, her eyes closed against the intense heat, and she squirmed against the heavy rope. Blake looked around desperately, hope ebbing away...

"Get that fucking thing out of there...!" Rissa screamed, and fired a shot uncomfortably close to one of the mud primitives. As they hesitated, her face became very grim and she shot one of them point-blank with her captured gun, calmly watching the creature writhe in agony as its displaced internal organs failed one by one. She turned toward Blake. "And let her go!"

Faal arrived too, staggering a little as he approached, as if losing his footing on the rough ground, and helped Blake remove the ladder from its position facing into the fire pit and out to safety. Lowering it carefully to the ground, they grabbed the nearest sharp implements they could find and started cutting Juni free.

* * *

"Juni...?" said Blake. "What do you say?"

Juni looked up, as if returning from somewhere else, a long way away. "He... He trusted you. We all did." If the others were expecting her to add anything to that, they were to be disappointed.

Blake appeared to think that over for a few moments. "I think that's what it comes down to... I took a risk. Not only with my own life, but also with every one of yours. _Juni_... I... Especially yours, as it turned out. I'm sorry about what happened to you. I'm sorry about what nearly..."

"Rissa said we knew the risks, and she's right."

"I thought the risk was warranted, and I thought it would all work out fine, just as it has always done up to now. I was wrong."

"Yes," said Juni, although there was no recrimination in her tone. No emotion of any sort, in fact. Caul tried to meet her eye, but she avoided looking directly at any of them.

He sat back, fingers of both hands entwined so tight no blood reached them, and he withdrew from the discussion to a private internal one of his own as he tried to process what any of this meant after today. What else was going to change, apart from that empty station...? He looked again, briefly, at Juni, rather than at the empty station which was on everyone else's mind.

 _His_ station. Faal's station. It seemed to loom above them all accusingly.

* * *

Faal helped Juni at first as they all half-staggered, half-ran back to the centre of the settlement, but to her surprise, Juni found herself supporting Faal before they got there. She peered at him, wondering what was wrong, and he murmured a quick reassurance.

"I hurt myself back there," he said. "That is all. I will recover."

"We'll get you to the medical unit as soon as we're back on board," said Juni. "Make sure you're all right."

He actually gave a faint smile - _Faal_ did - at that, and briefly and gently touched her face with its faint red weals from the heat of the fire. Appreciating the irony.

As they passed the abandoned manufactory, Blake and Rissa gathered up as many of the blue capsules as they could, and whatever else was easily portable. They all turned as the regrouped mud primitives approached in a spread out line, enveloping them. Hurriedly, as they closed in, Rissa passed out the spare bracelets she had been carrying.

"Darvin..." Blake called into her bracelet. "Teleport... Really quite urgently!"

 _"Orac..."_ Darvin's voice crackled. _"Teleport now!"_

* * *

They appeared in the teleport bay and, not pausing for a moment, Blake rushed to the flight-deck. With his old military discipline asserting itself automatically, Darvin quickly barked his report. "One ship, Blake. Planet hopper. It landed close to the settlement and they sent an armed party."

"I hope they're well-armed," Blake mused. "For their sake." She looked over at Caul. "Destroy it."

Caul stared at his panel. "Confirm order," he said.

"The ship. I want you to destroy it."

"Strand them there?" asked Darvin.

"Yes," said Blake, as Caul obeyed and fired the Liberator's ship to surface weapons and destroyed the smugglers' ship on TNDM-1939's surface. He sat back and shot a questioning look over at her.

Recognising she owed them an explanation, Blake offered one. "We have what we need. After what we've seen down there, I don't think I'll lose any sleep over the fate of that scum."

"Did you leave them all there...?" asked Rissa, who had just emerged from the corridor leading to the teleport bay. "Hardcore."

Blake shot a look at her that might have been a little regretful. "Glad you approve."

"Couldn't approve more, boss," said Rissa. "What's next?"

"Next?" Blake pondered. "Next, we get cleaned up and change clothes."

"Sorry, Blake..." said Rissa, downcast. "I meant to capture one of them so you could interrogate him, but then there was the whole Juni on fire thing and I got distracted."

"It's all right," said Blake with a faint smile. "You did well, Rissa. And, for the record, thanks for saving my life... All our lives."

Rissa looked confused, but also a little touched. "Whenever, wherever, boss."

"And after that?" asked Darvin as Blake and Rissa departed the flight-deck.

"Get us underway, please, Stev..." Blake called back as she ascended the stairs. "Then we'll talk."

* * *

Mr Rist struggled back to consciousness fitfully, finally starting awake when he felt himself being dragged to his feet by the immensely strong callused hands of his mud primitive allies. "What...?" he murmured. "Where...? Lim...! Where are you...? Lim?"

He saw Lim soon enough, being lashed to some sort of frame and swiftly covered with a thick layer of molten clay, several of the primitives splashing it on him in waves, skillfully managing to avoid burning or scalding themselves in the process. Lim screamed, startled awake by the touch of the first of the viscous boiling fluid. Behind him, waiting, the now fiercely burning fire, and Rist's mind went numb as he realised what was happening.

"What...?" he demanded of the nearest of them, the blank face unreadable under the layer of dried mud. But we're allies... What are you?" He saw then that they were throwing the remaining blue capsules in the fire, and all the associated paraphernalia of the manufactory with it. A sign from above that their gods were angry...? Destroying it all to appease them...? These thoughts and others flitted listlessly through Rist's mind as he contemplated his short, pain-filled future.

* * *

Perched on the edge of the diagnostic chair, studying the readouts intently, Faal's expression of solemn concentration did not change for so much as a moment. It did slip, however, if only momentarily, when he noticed there was someone standing in the hatchway, and again when he realised who it was.

"Juni," he said.

"I've come to see if you need any help."

"No, thank you." She did not immediately leave, and he was glad of that. He searched for something to say, anything, to keep her there, as for whatever reason he found he could not face being alone at this moment. "You are recovered," he said at last.

It sounded like a statement, although it could also have been a question. Whatever it was, it made her advance into the room and over to the side of the chair.

"Are you sure?" she asked, despite knowing it was a strange thing to ask of someone like him. Her eyes moved automatically to what she could see of the readout, and if she objected to his moving the screen round a little to prevent that, she said nothing.

"Yes. This machine is quite efficient and highly advanced. It is designed to allow the patient to operate alone if required."

"It's not required, though. Is it?"

"I don't-"

"-You only need to ask if you want someone to be here with you. Stop placing barriers against us. Even me."

"Juni..."

"What, Faal...? Once and for all, what is it...? Tell me."

"You are _her_ , you know. I only just realised, only very recently, that you doubt it."

"I am not _her_ ," Juni breathed. "I'm no longer _me_. I suppose that's the price for being here at all, isn't it? Alive and dead at the same time."

"You are wrong," he said. "I am sorry, I am so sorry, that I never explained it properly."

"She wouldn't let you. And I don't expect you to go against Servalan. She was kind to me- _to Juni_ \- but I have few illusions when it comes to her."

"That should never have prevented me... And I never feared Servalan, although it suited my interests to have her believe I did... It made her so much easier to deal with."

"I see." His face briefly creased in apparent agony, and Juni moved forward. "Are you all right?" she cried, alarmed.

He answered sheepishly. "I... On the planet, when I fell, I jarred my back. It will recover quickly... There is no permanent damage."

"Ah..." She glanced again at the screen, though it was turned away from her. "That's all that's wrong?"

"You were wrong, you know. You were quite wrong about that. She was never kind. Not to anyone, and not even to you. When she discovered you, it was too late for Servalan to produce offspring naturally, and other opportunities had been... prevented. I believe she saw something in you that day... A chance to perpetuate herself. One final opportunity."

"That didn't go so well..."

"No," he said with certainty.

"No wonder she wanted Juni cloned."

"She thought you would sate her loneliness..." he said. "And that may have been true. But you have never been truly like her, and you never will be."

Juni did not interrupt, listening in silence, eyes glistening, and Faal continued with what he needed to say.

"When I tell you I am sorry, I say it with absolute sincerity and without doubt of any sort," he said. "When I tell you that you are Juni, I am speaking with the same sincerity and precision, and as a scientist. The techniques used to create you are the most advanced I had at my disposal. Your brain was scanned twice, once two years before your death and again immediately after the crash, before you were pronounced dead, and the best possible master created... You _are_ Juni, as much as the girl who died in that crash was. I told Servalan the opposite, but that was a lie."

She was barely able to reply. "But-"

"-You are not a copy. _You are Juni_."

* * *

"I'm sorry," said Darvin.

"What for?" asked Blake, genuinely confused, as they walked slowly along one of Liberator's hexagonal corridors on their way to the medical unit.

"I hoped we would be wrong, but all the evidence points the opposite way. Difficult as it is to believe, it looks like Avalon really is involved in all this."

"Profiting from illicit drugs?" pondered Blake. "Avalon...? I find it very hard to accept."

"I know. But look at it - the evidence keeps piling up. That cell of hers we encountered on station Z78, they were up to their-"

"-I know, and I know the serial numbers all match, and I know we have all the documents, and I know we have that video call recorded for posterity, and it checks out... And I know we have evidence of her accounts in the Unaligned banking system. I know. _I know_ , all right. But it still feels wrong. Not just wrong, but highly convenient..."

"Convenient...?" pondered Darvin. "What are you thinking?"

"The same thing you are. The-"

They broke off as Juni passed them without even an acknowledgement, and Darvin raised his real hand with a single finger pointed back the way they had come and where Juni had just gone. "Was she...?"

"Crying...?" Blake looked pensive. "It seemed that way."

"A problem for Caul to solve?" Darvin suggested. Blake answered with a raised eyebrow. "Hey, you didn't think I noticed?"

"I had no idea how to even bring it up," she said.

"It was pretty obvious," he said. "I mean _surprising_ , but obvious."

"Obvious enough for Rissa?"

"No, thankfully. We'll deal with that when it comes up, which hopefully will be never... What was I saying...?"

"You weren't. I was about to tell you how convenient all this is for President Scarn. We know the drug trade among the Unaligned, the outermost ones, the easiest to pick off, benefits him, and we know that Avalon's support has been increasing there. We know that for all his military strength, he still doesn't have the entire Presidium on his side."

"One day," said Darvin, "He'll just shut down the Presidium and end the pretence."

"Till he does," she insisted, "They're a problem, and why not plant a little doubt and suspicion to make things more difficult? After all, the thing Avalon has on her side more than anything is her reputation... Her reputation for utter incorruptibility... Her _legend_."

He looked at her without speaking for a few moments. "Persuasive..." he said. "But where's your evidence? We've got plenty for the other side, and some of it's not all that fakeable."

"So let's find out for sure," Blake said, somewhat excited, a smile beginning to spread across her face.

"What do you suggest?"

"We stop scurrying around the fringes of Avalon's organisation, and go straight for the heart of it. We go straight to Avalon herself, and if she really is guilty, we stop her."

"Stop her?"

"Yes. There's no indication she has anything to match the Liberator. If she did, she would be a proper threat to Scarn rather than an irritant."

" _Bold_ , my friend."

"Why would we be anything else?" she demanded, just as they reached the medical unit. "We'll talk about it later..."

Faal was lying back on the diagnostic chair in its reclining position, completely still. They stood there for a few moments, uncertain.

"Should we wake him...?" Darvin asked. "Frankly, Blake, I don't want to hang around here any longer than necessary. I have... bad associations with places like this. Let's just find out how he is and go. He's a solitary type, he won't mind."

"That makes sense," Blake conceded with a faint smile. "I really think he was hurt a bit worse than he was admitting to down there, you know... Let's find out..."

"Check the diagnostic report," said Darvin, staying on the edges of the room. "There, it's still on the monitor..."

Blake paled as she read the report, and her glance flicked over to the prone form of Faal on the chair. "It says... No, Faal... No...!" She moved to him, and put her ear to his chest, listening. After a few moments, she said again, "No...!"

"What is it...?" Darvin demanded. "What?!"

"Multiple organ failure! That's what it says... He knew. Darvin, he knew! He was just waiting for us all to..." Blake ran a hand through her hair, trying to calm herself, and looked up at Darvin again helplessly.

 _"Faal..."_ Darvin breathed. "Why didn't he...?"

"He was waiting for us to leave him alone," she said. "He wanted to be alone to die." She gingerly touched the body's hand near the wrist. "He's cold," she said simply. "He's so _cold_ , Stev..."

Darvin moved over to join her next to the body. "The last of the Clonemasters..." he said slowly, and not without a little deference.

Blake looked up at that, and it was a while before she spoke. "The last...?" she considered.

* * *

"Oh, this is all nonsense!" cried Rissa, losing her temper. "If Blake was putting us all in danger and choosing to avoid it herself, there might be a point to this. But she leads from the front and takes all the risks we do... _More_ , sometimes."

"Well, thanks for that, Rissa, but-"

"-You want us all to forgive you," said Juni blankly, and for the first time looked Blake in the eye. "Don't you?"

"Juni," Darvin began. "I'm not sure-"

"-I suppose that's it," Blake admitted. "What this all boils down to. I try not to let any of you see my doubts, my fears... My insecurities... But I have them." She moistened dry lips, and said, "Can you? Forgive me?"

Juni frowned, just slightly. "That's what you don't understand. I _can't_ forgive you, because _I_ have nothing to forgive you for. The one you need absolution from, in order to continue this to the end...? It's you, Blake. It's always been you. And I'm afraid that may be impossible."

With that, Juni got down from her station and walked to and up the set of stairs, disappearing from view. Blake took a few moments before she spoke again, and none of the others preempted her.

"Juni... might be right. I don't know. Perhaps. But the fact is, Faal put his trust in me, and now Faal is dead." Why, at this moment, with Faal on her mind, could she not get the image of the long-dead Olag Gan, a man she had never even met, out of her head...?

_The first to die._

_No_ , she thought. _No more of them. Never again._


	8. Chapter 8

"My name is Del Grant, and I was a soldier... A good one, if not always a lucky one. I was born a little under sixty-three years ago on Ocean Habitat Three-Zero in Old Earth Administration Zone Delta, and got away from there as soon as it was possible to do so. I've done a lot of bad things, in my time, and a fair bit of good.

I've often killed for money. I've occasionally killed for a worthwhile cause. I have never killed for pleasure, or for mere convenience. On one day, long ago, I helped save an entire planet and its people. I failed to avenge the death of my sister, and - eventually - forgave the man who killed her.

I loved a woman with all of my heart, and lost her without ever telling her that, and then I had to endure seeing her go on as a shadow, a parody, of herself - A deceit that I devised, and one that I have perpetuated for nine long years. Now, the only remnant I have left in this blighted universe of the woman that I loved is in danger, and my duty is clear.

Let her die.

Keep watching. Keep listening. Keep waiting, for the best chance of victory in this endless war... Let her die... And I have never failed in my duty.

My name is Del Grant, and I was a soldier..."

* * *

**Proxima II**

Always at dawn... Why was it always at dawn? Reporting for another shift, Tev Kopper had no sooner made his way around the perimeter of his yard than it became clear this was not going to be any ordinary day.

This was a day long expected. This was the day they had come for him.

"I knew this would happen, you know," he mused chattily. "Only a matter of time, really."

He sighed, as they all just stood in silence, the dozen or so black-clad soldiers, anonymous behind their masked helmets. The President's elite guards, and maybe a couple of them were... _Oh yeah_ , the First Lady's guards, that was interesting... "I'm glad they sent you, at least you're quite a smart bunch. Regular UniS troops are a proper shambles..."

He smiled, looking for a reaction and seeing it in a couple of cocked heads. "Am I right, eh...? I'm not wrong!" He bet he could have got a laugh out of this bunch, given enough time... Time, however, was in short supply now. "All right, lads," he said, resigned. "Let's get it over with, eh...? Let's not make a meal of it. I hope you can all shoot straight."

_"You're coming with us."_

Kopper shook his head, slowly and deliberately. " _Nah_." He smiled warmly, eyes crinkling, face half-obscured by his mustache. "I'm not going anywhere. We all know what's going to happen, so let's just get it done here. Seriously, lads, if you don't I'll just make it a lot more difficult for you... More difficult than any of you can imagine. Promise."

There was no reply, but he heard the faint clicking down the line as their guns were readied for firing. "Go on, you know you want to..." Kopper urged. "You know it makes sense."

They stood there for a bit longer, for so long that eventually his calm acceptance of the situation started to waver. Another thought occurred to him, and he felt the need to voice it. Well, he could hardly leave it till later, now could he...?

"There's just one thing, lads... How did you find me...? I mean, I knew it would happen one day... But... Who was it? Was I betrayed? Was I just unlucky? Satisfy my curiosity, at least...!"

They fired.

* * *

Just as Tev Kopper's bullet-riddled body hit the ground, another party of President Scarn's elite troops was storming up the derelict stairs of an abandoned apartment block in one of the less fashionable areas of the Kapital, and when they reached the top floor they encountered resistance - Resistance that was surprised and unprepared, and ultimately ineffective.

Joining the fight piecemeal, Avalon's Proximan operatives engaged in an intense but ultimately doomed exchange of fire and were quickly wiped out... No one allowed themselves to be captured, indeed some even turned their guns on themselves rather than allow that to happen. Trampling the bodies, the UniS soldiers swept through the makeshift headquarters and scoured the place for any survivors, or for anything that could be useful.

 _"Report follows... Operation Washday is a success... Repeat - Operation Washday is a success. Details to follow in supplementary report."_ Grabbing one of his men, the officer's voice broke a little in his excitement as he demanded an answer to the only question that remotely troubled him in the moment of his success. "Is he here...? Is he among them? Grant! Is he here?"

The non-com officer shook his head briefly.

* * *

All across the Kapital, and across the other cities of Proxima II, throughout the smaller settlements too, a coordinated operation took place. Everywhere, Avalon's rebels fell or were rounded up - occasionally a listening post or a cell would be found abandoned, very occasionally the operatives would have gotten out just in time, but overall the operation was a massive success. In the space of a few hours, Avalon's movement had had its infiltration of UniS's centre completely broken, its few survivors scattered and on the run.

Unfortunately, the most sought-after prize, Avalon's operative number one on Proxima II, was elusive.

* * *

"My name is Del Grant, and I was a soldier... A mercenary, and a good one. And a survivor. For many years, I fought for those who would pay me to do so - Not blindly, and not without conscience, but seldom for any cause I strongly believed in.

Then, one day, that changed. I met a woman whose light shone so bright it illuminates my path clearly today, even though today she's further beyond my reach than ever. A woman who has inspired two generations of resistance to tyranny so far, and inspired me more than anyone. Her child, _no longer_ a child, is going to die, if I let her, and perhaps even if I try to stop it.

My name is Del Grant, and I was a soldier..."

* * *

_"We are to commence immediately. Maximum dose for her weight is authorised."_

_"But we don't know how that will affect her... She already has enough to-"_

_"-Maximum dose... Will you administer, or will I find someone else who will? That should not be difficult."_

_"Maximum dose it is..."_

Avral was in a cell on the detention block of the Kapital's Presidential Palace. She had to keep telling herself that, keep reminding, because as hour after hour of her imprisonment passed, her mind became more and more clouded. She remembered, half-remembered, having some kind of injection administered, against her fierce resistance... Touching her arms, she felt the bruising where the guards had restrained her.

 _Yes_ , that had been real... That was _real_... She had been given drugs. Twice. She was certain there had been a second time too, but her memory was so...

She was in a cell. She was a prisoner. She had to keep a hold of that.

 _Good morning_ , said the voice. Did it say that, or was it just in her mind? _Good morning_ , it said again. The voice was familiar, but she couldn't quite...

"Good morning," she replied, not really knowing why. If the voice was only in her head, it would give anyone monitoring her something to think about at least.

 _I want to ask you some questions_ , it said, soothing.

"Of course you do... Who doesn't?" The tips of her hair were still a little damp from the last attempt to ask her questions, not to mention the bruises to add to her collection.

 _I want to ask you about Blake_ , it said, and there was little that could have surprised her more than that. As a shot of adrenaline surged through her, she felt the effects of the drug intensifying, like a dark tidal wave threatening to overwhelm her senses, sure to overpower her reason and her will to resist. If she allowed it, and even probably if she did not.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, and to her annoyance it sounded rather feeble rather than defiant as she intended. "Why?"

 _Blake_. _What do you know of Blake?_

"He's dead!"

_Not him... Roj Blake is gone, but we want to know of his successor... What is she to him? Where did she come from...? Where is she vulnerable?_

"Successor? What are you talking about?!" Avral had forgotten by this time that the voice was probably only in her mind, and shouted the question. Those monitoring her could be certain their drugs were working, all right.

_How can she be contacted? Who else knows?_

_"Don't answer them."_

Was this voice in her head too? She felt a presence in the cell with her, and saw a large shadow fall over her outstretched legs, but resisted looking up for some time, afraid of what she might see. The voice was male, and deep, a little sonorous, the vocal chords scarred. It was not a voice she knew, but one she felt she ought to somehow.

Avral looked.

"Don't answer them," the man said again. "Don't let them in." He was tall and heavily-built, a little older than Del Grant and his face was scarred heavily on one side. His shock of curly hair was almost white. He was an imposing figure, and could be intimidating she was sure, but she found his presence enormously reassuring, even if he wasn't really there.

 _"Blake,"_ she breathed. "Are you the drugs?" Her eyes glazed, and she laughed quietly. This seemed like the funniest thing she had ever seen or heard.

"The drugs don't work," he replied, smiling warmly. "Not if you don't let them."

"You would know...?"

"Oh, yes," he said. "I've been through this, and worse."

She closed her eyes, suddenly very groggy. "They're trying to break me."

"They won't."

_We won't break you, Avral. We will save you. Your life is too valuable to waste._

"It's them again," she told Blake, suddenly aware how crazy that was. "Don't let them in, you said. Just how do I stop them?"

"By finding somewhere within yourself, somewhere at the very centre of your mind, and build a wall that they cannot penetrate. Hide there, for as long as it takes, and they can't touch you. Not now, or ever."

"I know the voice they use," she told him, even though she knew he wasn't real. "How do I know that voice? If only I could think!"

* * *

"What's she doing...?" asked the small, thin med-tech. "Who's she talking to?"

_"You've never seen this effect before?"_

"Not quite like this, no."

 _"I wonder..."_ said the interrogator. _"I wonder if we can use this somehow..."_ He leaned over the microphone, and thought carefully about what he was going to say...

* * *

 _You're the only one left_ , said the voice. _The only one, Avral. The last survivor. We don't need you for information, we're only trying to help you. Help us do that... We're the only hope you have left..._

Avral's heart went arrhythmic as a terrifying thing happened... Suddenly, she was sinking, just as the lights slowly dimmed before abruptly plunging her into darkness... She was sinking into the void, into the endless blackness. "Blake!" she screamed. "Blake, where are you?! Are you still there?!"

_Blake can't help you... She's not here. She cannot always be there, and you're alone. The only one left. The only survivor. You're not a freedom fighter, not a liberator... Only a survivor, as we all are. Accept that, accept who you are. Accept... my love. It's all you have left._

Why did the voice keep referring to Blake as _she_? Avral fought the overwhelming wave of darkness that threatened to overwhelm her, and cling on to some sense of herself, of who she actually was... Roj Blake was gone, she was alone now, and that was fine - He had helped her when she needed him, just as the child she had once been always hoped he might.

"He did return, Del!" she yelled. "He came back just when we needed him most, just as I said he would!"

 _Tell us about Blake_ , the voice said. _Tell us what you do know. It would make things so much better for you... Don't you want things to be better...? You deserve so much, Avral... You deserve a proper life... Love... Let me do that for you... Let me save you!_

* * *

"You're still rather _in character_ , aren't you?" observed the med-tech sniffily.

"Whatever it takes," said the Unified Systems Classified Field Agent who had chosen, on his last deep cover assignment, to be known as Walar. " _Whatever_ it takes," he said again.

"If you say so."

"Blake was the one thing they wouldn't let me near," said Walar, suddenly intense. "The one thing Avalon and Grant kept to themselves. Or did they share anything with her...? I have to know."

"It would certainly benefit your career no end, I suppose."

"Why else would I be doing this?"

"Frankly," said the med-tech. "I _was_ beginning to wonder."

* * *

 _I'm here_ , the voice said. _I'm here with you, Avral. Reach out, you'll find me... Here I am._

Lost and alone in the darkness, in her desperation Avral did as the voice suggested, and in the moment her hands came into contact with the person who was with her in the void, she finally recognised his voice. "Walar!" she cried. "Walar! I don't think I've ever been-" She stopped, the rational part of her mind reining her in, making her think. "No, you can't be Walar... I let him escape, Walar's free because of me... I _saved_ him."

Even as she said that, her fingers were reaching gently for his face, feeling the shape of it, the contours, and finding it corresponded to the face she knew. It felt solid, and warm in this cold, cold place. Real. But he couldn't be.

"It is me," he said soothingly, his hands closing around her smaller ones, stroking them, clasping them. "I came back for you, Avral... I was never going to leave you here..."

"Well, you should have!" she said fiercely. "I risked my life to save yours, and you should have got back to report the situation... You should have... Should have... If only I could think straight...!"

"Let me handle this," he said. "I've taken care of all of it, and I'm getting you out of here. Just trust me."

"Of course I trust you," she said, and swiftly stopped herself from continuing. " _No_ , I trust _Walar_... I don't know who or what you are!"

" _Avral_ , it is me," he tried to reassure her, hands cupping her face gently. "I could never leave you... Doesn't that sound like me...?"

She thought about that, fighting to stay rational, and finally concluded that he was right about that. Walar was a valued comrade, and a friend, and she knew he was also a problem she had to deal with, a problem she kept kicking further and further away in the hope it would resolve itself in time. " _Yes_ ," she said at last.

" _Avral_... I love you. I've come back for you, and I'm not going to let anyone or anything harm you. Not ever. You hear me?"

"I... hear you." Her mind was clouding again, and the feeling of his hands on her face was becoming less distinct, less real.

"I need to take care of something," he said. "But I will be back for you, all right? I promise. Have I ever broken a promise to you?"

 _Yes_ , she thought. _Yes, you have... But I forgive you that, my friend._

* * *

"You know why I have called you here...?"

"I imagine so, yes," said Dr Guld quietly, as she closed the doors of Lady Shilena's private office behind her and moved toward where the old woman sat at her desk. "The order has come, and not before time... We're to hold the girl hostage. This could be our best chance yet to-"

"-No."

"No?" Dr Guld frowned, with confusion and perhaps with something else behind her calculating dark eyes. "What do you mean, no?" She quickly backtracked. "Apologies, my lady, I-"

"-I was surprised too. That plan... is not approved. Avalon's daughter is to be executed immediately."

"Immediately? But that's irrational...! That's-"

"-No, my dear. My husband is many things, but he is seldom irrational. This is to some purpose, you can depend on that."

"But she's our best chance yet!" Dr Guld's tone was plaintive now, and Lady Shilena frowned slightly. "We could make Avalon stand down from all her current operations. Even... I know it's ambitious, but isn't there at least a chance she might give herself up for the girl Avral?" Dr Guld's objections were starting to sound a little exhaustive to the point of being desperate, even to her, and she stopped right away at the realisation.

"Try not to take it all too personally, dear. I know it must be frustrating to have your recommendations ignored..." A faraway look. "Oh, believe me, I know..."

"Then, if that's all, my lady... Might I be excused?"

"Oh, certainly." Lady Shilena watched, eyes hooded, as her aide backed away and departed the office.

* * *

Avral was back in the cell again, and she clutched the smooth walls with the tips of her fingers as if letting go would make her sink back into the dark void. The effects of the drugs must be wearing off, the rational part of her mind told her, but she was still terrified of going back to that void.

Walar? Had that been real...? Had any of that been real? It seemed remarkable, but it had felt so _real_... Was he coming back for her? Then, with a start, she realised she was no longer alone in the cell... There was someone there...

It was Walar! He had come back...! Before she could even come to terms with that, he had closed the distance between them and was crouching down next to her, clasping her hands again. " _Avral_ ," he said urgently. "You have to listen to me, all right...? Listen. You have to give me something. Something I can tell them, to keep you... To stop them..." Suddenly desperate and visibly under stress, he ran a hand through his hair, destroying the waxed fin shape completely.

" _Walar_... What is this...?" She noticed his uniform, and recognised the service branch it belonged to with a faint chill that ran down her spine. She had lost friends to people who had worn uniforms like that. What was Walar doing wearing that uniform?

"You hear me?" He gripped her shoulders, a little rough now, and placed his face close to hers. "I'm trying to save your life! You have to give me some information. Just a little, no more, just enough to make them think you have more. Tell me about _Blake_."

"Blake?" Avral's eyes were losing their glazed quality, as her vision and her mind gradually cleared, and she began putting all of this confusion into order... Walar... An enemy agent. It seemed incredible, and yet... He _was_.

"Blake... Anything. Just _something_... Because otherwise, you're going to die! The order has come down, and I can only have it changed if something major happens, and even that isn't guaranteed. You understand me?"

"I understand, yes..." she said slowly. "I understand."

"Good," he said, apparently genuinely relieved. "I can't let them execute you, Avral, I can't. Because... I might have lied to you, lied to you about a lot of things, but one thing... One thing was real. Not at first, but as time went on... I do love you. I've never felt like this about... You do understand... I can't let them kill you."

He wasn't prepared for what she did, and even a moment before she acted Avral didn't know what she was going to do. Once her decision had been made, the training kicked in and Walar became merely the latest opponent she had faced - an opponent who had made himself exceedingly vulnerable.

He yelped and fell back in agony as her thumbs were jammed savagely into his eyes, and his hands came up too late to defend his face. She used the opportunity to grab a hold of the cord that secured his uniform tunic, yanked it free with a snapping sound, then she was round behind him and looped it twice around his throat...

By the time he realised what she was doing, it was too late, and Walar choked, his legs kicking out frantically as she turned the cord in her hands again and again, her overwhelming anger lending her greater strength than she normally possessed. Walar fought, his bleeding eyes bulging, his hands clawing at hers, gasping for breath that he couldn't draw...

Slowly, bit by bit, his struggling stopped. When she was sure it was done, Avral backed away into the corner and sat against the wall again. Walar twitched a few times, but that was merely his body's reflex action. He was dead.

The traitor was dead.

* * *

Time passed. Avral remained sat with her back to the wall of the cell, not moving, eyes fixed on the wall opposite. Aware of the motionless body of Walar in front of her, and not even sparing it a glance. Not even when they came in with a stretcher to take it away, or carefully unraveled the cord from around his neck, and nor did she appear to notice the nervous glances any of the medical staff darted at her.

She felt nothing. The traitor was dead. Soon, probably, she would be joining him. She felt nothing.

Nothing at all.

From far away in the complex, a faint announcement, slightly distorted by the loudspeakers and her distance from them. _"Shuttle launch in one hour... Mark."_

* * *

Dr Guld got back to her office with a pretense of unhurried serenity, but no sooner could she be sure of privacy than she hurriedly got to work. Her comm-unit was activated, and it was the work of an impatient few minutes to access the secret channels, and within those the secret channels only _she_ even knew about. Any doubt that she was doing the right thing, or indeed the clever thing, was put aside in her sheer hurry to make contact before it was too late. _There_...

 _Urgent_ , she typed furiously. _Execution proceeding in point-nine-seven solar hours, details as discussed. Same arrangements apply. Action required subject to command priorities. Ends._

She sat back, still wondering if what she had done was right. Or wise.

* * *

"This is unexpected," Lady Shilena remarked guardedly as the screen came to life and displayed the cherubic visage of President Scarn. He was smiling benignly, and she very much wished he would stop that. It just made her uneasy.

"Unexpected?" he queried. "I gave you notice of the call."

"Not what I meant, and you know it. What do you want?"

"I need a reason to want to talk to you, my dear wife...?"

"Definitely."

"I thought I'd give you time to settle back in, first..." he said. "But naturally, after that I'd want to speak with you. After all, it has been some time."

"Your doing, not mine." She considered for a moment, face forming a cruel smile. "Does this mean I can expect a conjugal visit at some point?"

He smiled too, his a hollow one. "I fear those days might be behind us, my dear."

"Speak for yourself."

"I felt the need to explain myself..."

"Really?"

"It occurred to me, this incident with the captured dissident, given who she happens to be... It might have rather hit home. I thought you deserved to know why I'm going ahead with the execution."

"Are you going to explain it to the Presidium too?"

He chuckled. "Not quite yet, dearest. Their time will come. Soon."

"You've been saying that for rather a long time."

"And during that time I have rendered them entirely impotent...!" Realising he had risen to her bait, he made himself calm down.

"Care to rephrase...?" Lady Shilena inquired shrewdly, laughter threatening.

"This is a delicate time," he said. "A time of crisis, a time of decision. Swift, decisive action is the way to deal with Avalon's rebels now, and-"

"-Illegal justice? In private?"

"Have you become one of them, dearest one...? Of all things, that I never thought I would live to see."

"I have seen a lot of things pass that once seemed unlikely," she mused. " _Why_ , once your very survival seemed unlikely... Hunted through the forests like an animal by Federation troops... Till my family raised you up."

"That is _history_ now," he assured her. "Lost, and irrelevant."

"Just as they would have raised me up, had I not had the temerity to be a woman in a system that does not allow a woman to rule."

"You are ruling, my dear... As we speak. In my name, but ruling nonetheless."

"Of course..."

"So you have no objections...? I respect your right to be... somewhat troubled by this... Given your... _history_." That word again. Erno Scarn lived in the moment, and no one knew that quite like his wife. It puzzled him why others let the past trouble them, but he had never been above using that fact against them.

"Why _did_ you release me?" she asked.

"A discussion for another day," he said, after a pause.

"Just how many days do we have left, husband? One day, we must all make good on our promises... and our obligations."

" _Oh_..." said Scarn. "I intend to."

* * *

_"Shuttle launch in eight minutes... Mark."_

Avral was brought, stumbling in the grip of the executioners, to the tunnel, manacled and under heavy guard. Hurried through the heavy round hatch, feet crunching on the carbonised residue, she was still dazed, perhaps mercifully, as she was fastened to the metal beam using the waiting chains.

Her consciousness returned gradually as the executioners, their grim work largely done, retreated and their harsh footsteps receded... Still only half-aware of her surroundings, Avral heard the squeal of the hatch being swung open wide enough for the two large men in their bulky protective gear to pass through. She waited for the loud clanging as the hatch was sealed.

She continued to wait, eyes tight shut. Slowly, horribly becoming aware of where she was and what was about to happen... Waiting for the blast of intense heat and the tiny fragments of white-hot material that would eviscerate her as she was powerless to move...

_"Shuttle launch in three minutes... Mark. Support personnel must evacuate launch area if they have not already done so... There will be no further warning."_

The sound never seemed to come... She wondered why, and also - _Was that gunfire...?_ \- What was _that_ sound...? More crunching footsteps, far more urgent than those of her executioners...

_"Shuttle launch in one minute... Mark."_

* * *

When she woke again, it was fairly quickly to full alertness, most of the drugs now out of her system, and Avral sat bold upright before her vision properly cleared.

She was being lightly buffeted in her seat, making it clear she was in a vehicle of some sort, and it was only a second before she recognised the reassuring, slightly tangy odour of gun oil and soma, and her smooth hands were reaching out and clasping the rough ones of Del Grant.

His deeply-lined face came into focus. "Welcome back," he said, his features uncharacteristically joyful, and she held on to his hands tighter as if she might otherwise lose her grip on this reality and fall back into the endless void.

"Where...?" Whatever question she was going to ask, another one took its place as the full implications started to become clear. "What have you done?"

"Done?" His face assumed its normal grimness again. "What I had to."

"So what happens now?"

"Now, at last, we start resisting," he said. "This time, for real. We may just have lost a battle, but we're going to start winning the war."

"How exactly do you propose we do that?"

"With a little help... From Avalon..." That was said with an air of resigned sadness, followed by a more hopeful quality as he added, "And from Blake." He took out a wrapped bundle and, as Avral watched, he carefully unwrapped a small object... A metallic bracelet, dark with coloured panels and controls, smooth and shiny in places yet scuffed and worn by the passage of time.

"You've had that..." she breathed. "All this time."

"Yes."

"Because you thought they'd come back... Even after Gauda Prime, even after all those years."

" _Thought_ , no," he said, as if to himself, and then finally looked at her. "Only hoped."

* * *

"My name is Del Grant, and I am a soldier again... A good one, and if I'm lucky, just this once, I'll make a real difference... Either this is the day I die, or this is the day I start living again."

* * *

The spacecraft was old and battered, its hull dull and pock-marked by the hazards of space. Its armaments respectable but not formidable enough to draw too much attention. If anyone looked too closely, it was a sturdy cargo ship going about its business, perhaps at worst it was a privateer. Better to steer well clear of it, unless your own ship were particularly heavily-armed, and even then why force a confrontation with a stranger?

Inside, the equipment was old and patched-up, the quarters very much lived-in. The bridge was dimly-lit, the instrument panels scored, the small crew as worn as the ship, intently focused on their goal.

Taking Avalon from one successful operation to the next, sparking resistance on every inhabited world dominated by Unified Systems. The same job many of them had been doing for a very long time.

Along the narrow connecting corridor to the bridge, _Avalon_ walked slowly and steadily, acknowledging the greetings of her crew whenever any of them passed. She was of medium-height and slim of build, her black leather tunic and trousers covered by a dark cloak. There were the first traces of silver in her dark brown hair, but little other sign of her fifty-plus years.

At an intersection, she was joined by another woman, similarly dressed and around the same age, her piled-up greying hair still showing traces of its original yellow. Her wide eyes were apparently guileless as she smiled a greeting to Avalon, and fell into step alongside her.

"You've heard?"

"Yes," said Avalon. "Every cell, every post... Swept up, in the space of two hours, all across Proxima II... It's a disaster."

"It's a disaster, all right," said her attendant, a smile threatening to break out.

"Oh, dear," said Avalon, a similar smile appearing on her face. "How sad. Never mind."


	9. Chapter 9

The Liberator approached the turquoise world at high speed and dropped smoothly into geosynchronous orbit, hanging majestically above the hazy, heavily-forested surface. A matter of minutes after its arrival, a highly directional, intense beam of energy, invisible to the human eye and carrying three distinct and individual patterns of data, was directed at one specific predetermined area of the planet below.

* * *

"This was the place."

A look around by the tall granite-faced man elicited agreement and confirmation from the ragged band gathered in the forest clearing, their grave features offering various degrees of encouragement. Some were wounded, and made themselves as comfortable as possible on fallen trunks or wherever there was space and something akin to comfort.

Holding up the electronic marker he had found just where it was supposed to be, but contrary to his expectations, the tall man clambered with some difficulty across the rough terrain to the side of a large robust-looking figure, rounded face flushed with exertion and eyes gleaming, perhaps with excitement or - more likely - with the fever he had recently fought off.

Or perhaps with sheer self-belief - this was a born aristocrat unusual even among his own class for the extent of his self-regard. _So_ the tall man thought, but he payed well, or had done before they had been forced to flee the cities. He was certainly a better immediate prospect than life under their present occupiers.

"Aye," another man said. "That was the marker, all right. If we can trust them, this is where they'll arrive."

"Well," said another. "I don't see no shuttle, or hear one yet... And this is the appointed time, give or take... They're not coming!"

"They're not coming by shuttle," said the imperious stout man with a sort of bored petulance. That created some bemusement, but none questioned his assurance. For now.

The tall man struggled over to join his employer. "What if they _don't_ come...?" The stout man, his features smooth and unsettlingly childlike enough to belie his forty-something years, did not turn around fully to look at him, and merely flicked his eyes to the side briefly.

"Watch," he said.

"Watch where?"

"Up there!" a voice shouted, and they all turned to look at the man's pointing finger just in time to see, at the top of an incline, three figures appear silhouetted against the setting star. A halo was formed around them, a halo of bright white that disappeared and left most of them unsure they had really seen such a thing at all. They all shaded their eyes to get a look at the new arrivals.

Two of them were in front of the other, and they were the first ones to be properly visible, before they began climbing down. The man was tall and broad-shouldered with a mane of dark curly hair around his face, and next to him was a slender-built young woman with long gold-coloured hair loose around the shoulders of her dark-red leather tunic. The man also wore a leather tunic, _his_ dark brown, and heavy-duty trews tucked into high boots, while she wore close-fitting trousers of the same dark-red leather.

The third figure, less distinct in front of the intense back light, picked his way down carefully behind the other two, perhaps deliberately trying to stay in their shadows somewhat. His apparel was a rather more nondescript brown and beige outfit, and he carried a solid metal case in his hand of which he was very protective.

Finally, they arrived at the bottom of the slope and stood cautiously ready to greet and be greeted. "Which one of you is Blake?" asked the tall man. There was a long moment of tense silence before at last the largest of the three arrivals walked forward towards them, and for the first time his face was seen clearly. He offered a warm smile of greeting.

"I am," he said, offering his hand, the other hand moving away from the weapon holstered at his side. "Roj Blake."

"Vin Kort," said the tall man, and took the hand.

The other two moved in behind Blake. The other man was, like Blake, in his thirties, but shorter and slighter, thin-faced and shifty in his demeanor, ready to run at a moment's notice. The blonde woman was a few years younger than both, confident and strikingly attractive but also wary, which was why her hand, despite Blake's example, was still poised very near the gun at her side. They exchanged cautious glances, both clearly uneasy about the situation in a way their leader was apparently not.

"Down and safe," the young woman said, speaking into the bracelet on her wrist, and Blake shot her an amused glance as though jokingly put out that she had intruded on his prerogative.

"Hopefully," breathed the third member of the landing party quietly.

"Jenna and Vila," said Blake, introducing his companions. "Sorry, I thought you might have been Erno Scarn."

"No," said the stout man, moving into the light. "I am Scarn."

* * *

 **Proxima II -** **The year 279 of the Second Calendar**

The party moved along the difficult forest path carefully in the fading light, strung out and, to Blake's mind, worryingly vulnerable to an ambush. Was he more worried about these things now...? After-

After Central Control. Everything had felt a little different since then.

"It's getting very dark," he said to Vin Kort. The man seemed to be some sort of spokesman as well as bodyguard to Scarn, as well as whatever other duties were within his remit, and certainly Blake felt a lot more comfortable conversing with the relatively personable Kort than with Scarn himself.

"Watch," said Kort. Blake looked up, bemused, and almost no sooner had Kort spoken than the sky was filled with light once more, in a matter of seconds.

"So it's true," said Blake. "Artificial star?"

"Yes," Kort replied.

"Expensive."

"No doubt it was... Proximans were rather wealthier when that was built... That was before the Federation."

"And scared of the dark," commented Vila. "I feel at home here already."

"We will be again," said Scarn quietly, picking his way with care. " _Wealthy_ , that is." That was the only statement he was prepared to make, however, and the party continued quietly, with those who were armed keeping their weapons ready for use.

"If this is easing us back in," said Vila, "I'd hate to see what he's got in mind when we've... How did Avon put it...? Restored our legend."

"I'll look after you," said Jenna wryly, only partly joking.

"You know who else used to say that...?" Vila didn't have to finish, but he did it anyway. "Gan." _And look what happened to him..._ At least he left that unspoken. After a brief moment of shared slight awkwardness, Jenna led the way after the others, and Vila reluctantly followed.

* * *

**30 years later**

"Orac..." Blake began quietly. "Can you access information relating to Clonemaster funerary customs?"

There was a moment before Orac's irritable tones filled the teleport bay, and Blake sat back in her seat at the controls. She strongly suspected the delay was just the supercilious AI's way of asserting his independence the only way he could, straitjacketed by his programming as he was. _"Of course I can,"_ said Orac. _"The question is, do you wish me to?"_

"I didn't ask for rhetorical tricks, Orac..." she said shortly. "Or pedantry. Do you have the information, or do you not?"

_"The simple answer is, there is no publicly accessible written account of such customs... It would seem reasonable to conclude that the Clonemasters, such is the nature of their culture, most likely regard the body as simply material, for use and reuse as necessary, and thus attach no sacred importance to what they regard as simply a shell."_

"I see."

_"Of course, the possibility remains that such customs are simply too personal to the Clonemasters, too private, to be subject to public record, and by their very nature any private customs that might exist are just that... Private, and for the moment at least, beyond my ability to access."_

"Thank you, Orac," she said blankly, anger gone.

_"Do you wish me to devote further run-time to this question?"_

"No thank you, Orac."

* * *

She found Darvin on the flight-deck, not that she was actively looking for him, and he looked up as she descended the couple of steps and came over to join him. "At a loose end?" he asked.

"No."

"Well, that answer was definitive, if brief... Do I deduce, from your presence, that you're ready to talk to us again?"

"To you," she replied.

"Oh, I am honoured."

"Well, you are in command of this ship."

"And you're in command of this _war_ we're fighting. _Were_ fighting. Had any more thoughts on that?"

"Plenty," she said. "Just not any useful ones. Not since..."

"Since Faal died?" Darvin sat down and motioned her to do the same. When she didn't, he got back up, took her by the hands and gently but firmly made her sit. "Yeah, it kind of knocked me a little sideways too, I'll admit. Still, what you gonna do?"

"What _are_ we going to do?"

" _Well_ , I seem to remember _some_ bright spark had the notion we could go and see Avalon, or something along those lines... Sounded like an interesting thought to me."

"That was before."

"Before Faal...? I'm going to keep saying his name, you know."

"I know you are."

"I'll give him a little break, if you talk to me."

"What are we doing now, if not talking?"

He clasped his hands in his lap and looked down at them. "That's what I was wondering."

"How's Juni...?" she asked, diverting the subject if not quite changing it entirely. "And Caul."

"Juni's spending a lot more time with Rissa... I _know_ , strange. Not so much with Caul... You two are tight, why not ask him about it...?" She looked askance at him, at the very idea of asking Caul such a thing, and then caught sight of the recent arrival on the flight-deck.

Caul walked down the last couple of steps and moved to his station, footfall almost silent, and began examining the latest data. He gave them only the slightest nod of greeting on the way, and Blake and Darvin exchanged glances.

"Caul..." Blake began, and stopped, not sure how to continue.

Caul looked up at her. "What?"

"How you holding up?" asked Darvin. "I don't think anyone's thought to ask _you_ yet."

"Me?"

"Yeah... We've all had our say on the matter. More or less. Except maybe Juni... I think she's still bottling a few things up."

If mention of Juni had any effect on Caul, he hid it well, busying himself examining his station's readouts. "You should talk to her... You're good with people."

"Or maybe _you_ should," said Darvin. "You two are close."

"Me?" Caul asked. "What makes you say that?"

 _Not being stupid..._ Darvin didn't say that, although it was what immediately sprang to mind. "Nothing very much... Just got that impression, that's all."

"I think I'll collate this in my cabin," said Caul, and started to leave again.

"Caul..." Blake's voice made him turn back, and he seemed to do so quite reluctantly. "Later..." she said. "Mess hall? I feel like being Mara again for a little while."

"All right," he responded, and left hurriedly.

"We handled _that_ well, didn't we?" said Blake, rubbing her face. "Well, actually you _did_ , Stev," she added, looking at him a little blearily. "But then, like he said, you're good with people."

"Do you think he heard?"

"That we know he and Juni have been having sex in their spare time?" She raised a hand in the air and let it slap down onto her thigh. "Probably."

" _Oh_ ," Darvin mused. "I think it's a little more than that, don't you?"

" _Yeah_..." she said. "One more good thing I've destroyed. Is it too late to change my mind about all this?"

Darvin settled back in his seat. Choosing not to address her question, he responded with one of his own. "What about you...?"

"What _about_ me?"

"Do you... miss that sort of companionship, Blake?"

She laughed quietly, and probably for the first time in several days. " _Companionship_...? Is that an offer, Stev?"

He shrugged. "It _could_ be, I suppose..." he said lightly. "But I rather got the impression I wasn't your type."

Blake's assessing look lasted quite a few moments, then she shrugged too. "Maybe I'm a little more flexible than you imagine."

"Oh, _don't_..." Darvin cautioned her, pretending to feel faint. "I don't think I could take that sort of thing any more." She gave a proper, wicked laugh at that, from deep in her chest, and he joined her in it, his grin wide.

* * *

" _Ow_!" Juni stepped back several paces, and looked at Rissa a little resentfully, taking one hand off the long stick she was holding.

"Did I get your fingers?" inquired Rissa sympathetically, then her face and voice abruptly changed tone. "Good!" She smiled - the animosity was entirely feigned. These two had progressed a long way in the three months they had been on this ship.

They walked around each other a few paces, and sparred furiously with the sticks, Rissa looking approving of Juni's developing combat technique. Finally, both took a rest in their adopted corners of the Liberator's medium-sized gymnasium. Whether this space came as standard in System vessels, or one of them had made it form with a stray thought during the interior configuration, Rissa didn't know or particularly care. She was just pleased it was there, and much better suited to her likes than the overly-busy facilities at Galaxy City.

Juni managed a smile too, though retaining a little of the resentment. "I don't know why I'm doing this," she said. "When am I going to be fighting UniS troops with sticks?"

"You'd be surprised," said Rissa, tossing her stick in the air and catching it after turning swiftly on her heel. "Sticks, blades, fists, feet, elbows, knees... I'm going to teach you them all... Then, I'll teach you to shoot straight."

"I _can_ shoot straight. I'm a good shot."

"Granted. But I'm going to make you an _excellent_ shot."

"Not lacking in self-belief, are you?" asked Juni as she reached for her towel.

"That's one of the reasons why I'm still here," said Rissa. "Plenty aren't," she added, as if either of them needed reminding of that. "And because I'm too beautiful to kill," she added, trying to lighten the mood. "They just can't bring themselves to do it, in the end."

"Yes..." Juni considered. "Some of us just can't die, no matter how hard we try."

The mood a little bleaker now despite Rissa's efforts, the two of them reached an unspoken agreement the training session was over and gathered their things.

* * *

Juni returned to her quarters in a subdued mood, Faal on her mind again in a way he hadn't been for the last couple of days... After what he had said to her shortly before his death, she didn't know exactly what to do... How to be. Ever since she had reached the realisation that she wasn't real, that she was a clone, a creature grown or constructed - his methods were a mystery to her as they were to everyone - by Faal on the orders of Servalan, she had felt at a distance to... _Well_ , to everything.

That distance, that lack of involvement, had become very comfortable, terrifyingly so, and learning that in fact she was as much Juni as the original was in some ways _more_ disruptive to her state of mind. What to do now there were no excuses for not feeling... normal?

When her vidscreen activated by itself, she automatically turned to look at it, and when his face... _Faal'_ s face, appeared, a chill ran down her spine. _"Juni..."_ he began. _"If you are receiving this, it is because..."_

She listened to the end.

* * *

The area adjacent to the Liberator's medical unit that had hurriedly been set aside and repurposed as a morgue was empty and silent. Dark also, till the lights responded to the quiet approach and gradually brought the light levels up.

Juni paused, unable to tear her eyes away from the covered prone body of Faal on the tabletop. It took a while before she was ready to approach, but when she did, it was with resolution.

_"I have one request to make of you, and it is my hope, and my wish, that you do not ask, and do not wonder, as to my reasons for making it..."_

She pulled back the cover, glancing only briefly at the long solemn features - as calm and serene in death as he had typically been in life... It was difficult to believe those heavy-lidded eyes would not simply open to reveal the large-pupiled dark eyes, difficult to believe there was no life in the long slender limbs...

_"Simply, if my friendship has meant anything to you, please accede to my request, and leave me..."_

Taking the object from around her neck, she placed it on his, letting the chain bundle around it... She made no attempt to disturb the body by lifting the head to get the chain around his neck, as that was not as he had requested... Only the presence of the object was required. The Arcturan pearl, its slightly off-white surface formed of undulating bumps and fault-lines. His gift to her, close in appearance but not quite identical to the one gifted to the original Juni - the girl of whom she was a near-perfect copy just as this pearl was of _her_ adornment.

She broke the terms of his request then, by wondering... _Why_...? Why did he want it back, and under these circumstances...? She would have worn his gift to the end of her days in his memory, but he had asked for it to be returned to his corpse... Why?

 _"Thank you,"_ he had said. _"If these are to be my final words to you, so be it. Thank you."_ Juni stopped wondering, and left Faal to the silence - and, once again, the enshrouding darkness.

* * *

**Proxima II**

The acrid tang of smoke hung in a wispy pall around and inside the - thought to be - abandoned housing complex that had until very recently been home to Del Grant's cell of dissidents. Dr Guld picked her way carefully through the debris of combat - wood splinters, broken glass, discarded weapons and various other objects - and finally the bodies of the dissidents themselves - Those who had not yet been cleared up - and sought the attention of the squad commander.

 _"Ma'am..."_ the man greeted her. She noticed the minuscule pause in which he internally debated what to call someone without rank who nonetheless most certainly outranked him.

"Commander... Anything to report?"

 _"Plenty..."_ The man's face was still obscured behind the mask of his helmet, but she could practically hear him grin. Conscious of the possible protocol breach, he flipped the mask up to let her see his lean, sharp-featured and somewhat nondescript face. "We'll be sifting through this for months... or rather those who do that sort of thing will... I say months... Maybe years."

"Data storage?"

"Oh, yes... They had no time to destroy anything thoroughly. Encrypted, of course, but since when has that been much of an obstacle, eh...?" He perceived Dr Guld may not be entirely matching his genial informality, and stiffened to a more attentive posture, face becoming more appropriately severe.

"I'll take it."

"Ma'am?" He was sure he must have misheard.

"I said, _I'll take it_. All."

"You mean copies, naturally...? Um, normally that sort of thing is done after physical transplantation of the drives, apart from the initial backup done on site..."

"Has the initial backup taken place?"

"Yes, it has."

"I'll take _that_ , so I can study it while the drives are being relocated to my office."

"Ma'am, I..."

"You know who I am...? I'm sorry, I was somewhat lax on my arrival... I am Doctor Lenta Guld, Security Advisor to the President himself."

"Yes, ma'am, I was-"

"-Address me as Doctor Guld, or simply Doctor, please."

"I- Yes, of course, Doctor. It- I'll see to it immediately, if you would just wait... I'll be back quickly."

"Of course I'll wait."

* * *

The stop-off for a very quick change of clothes, followed by the rush through customs checks, was a blur to Avral - perhaps the residual effect of the drugs they had administered in prison, or perhaps just the ragged state of her nerves... and no wonder. She had no clue how Del Grant got them onto a commercial flight out of the Kapital and into the teeming anonymity of the orbit lanes, let alone how he managed to secure this plush private cabin on the flight - Thinking about it later, she realised he must have been planning this contingency for a very long time.

He sat opposite, head sunk back into the cushioned headrest of his chair, eyes closed. Seeing him like this briefly seemed to take years off him, and Avral imagined she had some sense of what the young Del Grant must have looked like. The dashing mercenary, hard and ruthless, somewhat amoral but never _im_ moral... She would be curious to meet that Del Grant.

His eyes snapped open, and locked with hers. The two of them sat without speaking for some time.

"I thought you were asleep."

"No," he said.

"You can if you like... I'll keep watch. 'Least I can do."

"I'll sleep one day." She knew better than to keep offering - when Grant had made his mind up, it was made.

"Thank you for saving my life," she said quietly.

"I had to."

The look in his eyes left no doubt it was no _reluctant_ obligation he was speaking of. Avral barely remembered her father, but if he had lived, she knew that perhaps only he would fully understand why Del had acted as he did. "Are we the last two?" she asked, voice quavering just very slightly.

"I imagine a few others will have made it, here and there. But not many."

"Was it our fault, do you think?" She did not say _his_ fault, content to share the responsibility.

"From what you've told me, it was Walar's fault... And ours, I suppose, for not spotting him for what he was."

"Yes, but the timing... If I hadn't gone in there when I did... Perhaps Walar would have happily kept spying on us for years to come, and all the others would still be alive."

"No point debating what might have been..." He leaned forward. "Are you all right...? You told me you killed Walar, but-"

"-One day, I'll tell you about it," she said, her smile of reassurance decidedly brittle. "Not yet. But he is dead, he's definitely dead..." She saw in her mind's eye Walar's bloated purple face, side-on as he twisted round to try to look at her... as she slowly garrotted him with the belt-cord from his own uniform...

Avral took a ragged, halting breath, and a sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. The hand she raised to stop the sweat running into her eyes was trembling.

"I didn't spot him either," he said. "We were all fooled."

"We have no choice, sometimes, but to trust each other..." she said. "Trust _someone_... I thought that made us better than _them_ , but it just makes us more vulnerable."

"Don't think like that," he told her. "If you do, then they've won."

"He said he _loved_ me... That _that_ part was true... I know I never welcomed that, I just hoped that one day he would give up on it... but when he said it - in that _cell_..."

"Part of his twisted game."

"I don't know..." She ran a hand through her hair, sodden with the cold sweat that had broken out, and shuddered. "I wish I could be sure of that... I'm not sure of anything now."

"Welcome to life."

That could have sounded somewhat condescending had it been someone else saying it to her, but she knew this man and took his intended meaning, and smiled faintly. "Do I get some sort of initiation gift...?"

"A bracelet."

"Where is it?" She hadn't seen the bracelet Grant had brought with him since before they had boarded this spacecraft. The teleport bracelet from the Liberator, in his possession for the past thirty years.

"In the hold... It's safe. Shielded, if they do a sweep."

"So... You just switch it on, and..."

"There's a way I can make it transmit a pulse on a wide frequency band through some kind of subspacial network... Basically, it becomes a beacon, but only to the Liberator... Or another ship like it perhaps. We'll see what happens."

"When?"

"When we get where we're going."

"Do you think Blake actually is alive...? Or is everyone who says Avon killed him... Are they right?"

"I honestly don't know."

"You knew Avon... Do you think he could actually have done that?"

"Yes," said Grant, a little regretfully but without hesitation. "It's possible, in the right circumstances."

"You always avoid talking about Avon, whenever I've asked."

"Yes, I do, don't I?" He said that kindly, but it was still a rare barrier between them.

"Is he still alive, do you think?"

"Oh, yes..." Grant's eyes flicked over to the side, apparently at the empty seat next to him, and she thought she detected a rare smile from this taciturn man. "He's still alive."

"You seem very sure."

"I'd know," he said.

"I thought I saw Blake," she said suddenly. She had never intended to speak of that aspect of her experience in UniS's custody, but suddenly it felt right to talk about it.

"Where?"

"In my cell... He came and talked to me... Helped me. Just when I needed him most."

Grant thought about that for a moment. "Is it possible...?" he muttered.

"Well, no..." Avral said, smiling. "Of course it isn't possible... I was hallucinating, thanks to their drugs, and lack of sleep... But I was glad he was there anyway."

"Hush, dear," said Avalon fondly from the seat diagonally opposite, before turning back to Grant, whose eyes briefly seemed to move back to face her again. "He wasn't talking to you."

It was Avalon, but a different Avalon from the one currently journeying among the outermost UniS-dominated worlds... This Avalon was gentle where that one was sharp, caring where the other one was calculating... Somewhat different in appearance, also... Her coiled braided hair was silky and had a little more silver in it than her counterpart's, and her maroon velveteen suit was as civilian as the other's black ensemble was military...

And she was totally undetectable to her daughter - Avral was entirely oblivious to her presence. "Ah..." Avalon continued, "But then, you can't see me, can you...?" Her eyes fixed on the side of Grant's head. "Only you, Del... Only you."

"I believe you," Grant said in a husky whisper.

"You do?" Avral was amused and a little taken aback.

"They do come back, you know..." he said. "Sometimes, they really do come back."

* * *

**279**

**Proxima II**

The place was a hunting lodge, apparently, or had been in more peaceful times, and if that called to mind a small establishment, Blake, Jenna and Vila were to find their expectations somewhat surpassed. The place was huge, and though it had fallen into disrepair of late through lack of use, it was still impressive.

Built within a hollow in a forest clearing, it looked somehow like an extension of the forest itself, its walls gnarled and covered in mosses of various colours. Turrets with lookouts posted to them towered high above, warning of their approach long before they got there. "You can see why Scarn came here when trouble threatened," Blake considered.

"Marvellous," said Vila. "Where does he go when trouble falls on his head?" As Blake and Jenna walked on, he maintained his position. "It's a valid question... Where does he go? And where do _we_ , for that matter...?" He checked the bracelet was properly fixed to his wrist, not for the first time.

"It's pretty secure," Jenna conceded, looking up at the imposing installation with a critical eye. "It might withstand a land assault, but what happens when the Federation resort to other measures?"

"Yes," said Blake grimly. "It's only a matter of time."

"That's what I said..." Vila pointed out. "You just changed the words around."

"That's why this is so important, isn't it?" Blake went on, insistent. "A centre of resistance, defying the Federation on their very doorstep, just over four light years away from Earth... That's remarkable. And it needs our help."

"So do we..." said Vila fatalistically.

"I think we're discovering why you wouldn't bring Avon," said Jenna in a slightly barbed fashion.

"Well, Avon's not much good at opening doors that don't want to be opened, and he doesn't have your charm," Vila said to her. "Blake knows how to put a landing party together, I'll say that for him."

"And Cally...?" Blake asked, humouring them. "Why not Cally?"

"Because you listen to Cally," Jenna said without hesitation.

Blake looked over at her gravely for a moment, before leading the way after their hosts. Through the open gate of Erno Scarn's last stand against the Federation.

* * *

The means were found that evening for something of a party, Scarn clearly being determined to show his guests - or allies - that though he might need their help he was not totally without resources of his own. Though Blake looked slightly askance at first, he soon realised the importance of such a gesture to a dominating but brittle ego like Scarn's, and acceded with good grace to playing the role of honoured guest.

Jenna was considerably less comfortable with her role, and soon found a quiet corner of the once-opulent banqueting hall to sit in, lost in thought. A couple of hours later, she was surprised to be approached by one of the Proximans, and even more so to find it was none other than Scarn himself.

"I hope we didn't drive you away," he said. "We may not be at our best, but one thing we can do very well, if I say so myself, is offer our hospitality."

"I'm sure," said Jenna, taking a sip of the drink she had made last since one of Scarn's servants had pressed it into her hand almost as soon as they had passed through the gate. To say she found something unpleasant about Scarn, despite his impeccable manners, was putting it mildly. There was a sense of decay about him, and she was keenly aware of the centuries of corrupt privilege he represented. A spacer like Jenna, used to plain speaking, had little patience for the thousand lies one would have to tell every day to survive around someone like this, and could not imagine she ever would.

His fleshy face wore a mask of benign interest as he replied. "Your presence has been... shall I say, noticed, by a number of my men... but in all honesty I can't say I'm really all that sorry you've kept to yourself..." There was something cold in his eyes as he added, "I like a challenge."

"Well," she began, and smiled, her eyes just as cold as his. "That's good, because you've chosen to wage war against the Federation, and that really is a challenge... Excuse me." She stood and began to move away, but somehow Scarn shifted his substantial bulk with great ease to block her path.

"Is this any way to... cement our alliance?" he cooed.

"You know, it's funny you should say that," Vila piped up loudly, having come out of nowhere to stand barely at arm's length from both of them. "I was just talking about cement to... Oh, I never found out his name, that chap over there with the interesting hat... I said..." Feigning, or perhaps not feigning at all, wine-addled befuddlement, he frowned. "What was I saying...?"

"That woman we met when we arrived," said Jenna, making the irritated Scarn turn back to her. "Was that your wife? I think I'll see if I can get to talk to her... She seems very interesting."

Scarn stared at her for a few moments. "Yes, she is, but I think you'll find your leader has been keeping her company." He turned to go, but not before a parting shot. "A fair exchange, I thought, but perhaps not." He stalked away, visibly angry now.

Letting him get out of earshot, Jenna exhaled slowly. "Thanks for rescuing me," she said to Vila.

"Not for the first time," he replied.

"Or vice versa," she shot back, and he nodded.

"True." He turned to her. "I think it's more important than ever we look after each other, Jenna... After all, no one else will."

"You mean all of us," she said, trying not to laugh or even smile. It was clear now that, while Vila's intervention had been carefully calculated, his befuddlement was not _entirely_ feigned.

"Well... Yes, of course... But we've always had a bit of a special rapport, haven't we...? Oh, go on, say _yes_ , I've got a fragile ego, everyone says so. It's one of my best qualities... Or was it _worst_? I get those mixed up."

"All right then, I suppose we have." Jenna was certainly smiling faintly now. While they had been talking, she had moved over to where she could see the main part of the hall without _her_ interest being noted, and was just in time to see Blake's imposing figure disappear through an ornate set of doors into the relative quiet of the courtyard. Not alone - he was in the company of the tall willowy wife of Erno Scarn.

She looked up, distracted, as Vila began speaking again. "You think he doesn't notice, but he _does_ , you know... It's nothing personal, it's just that Blake will never let himself get any closer than he is already... To any of us, even me...!"

"Oh, I don't know," Jenna breathed. "I think you might be selling yourself short." She made light of it, but there was no mistaking that Vila was on slightly thin ice.

"Not when he might have to get us killed..." he continued, determined to make his point. "Like Gan." He shrugged, noticing her growing anger, anger made worse by the knowledge that he was right. He stepped back, away from her, and turned to go. "What do I know?"

"Vila," she called quietly after him before he had gone far, and he turned back. "Thanks," she said, not specifying what for. Just for being there, perhaps.

* * *

"I'm so sorry," said Blake. "This is going to sound incredibly rude of me, but they never actually told me your name."

"No, they didn't, did they?" replied his companion in their slow stroll around the large courtyard. "It must have slipped their mind." Lady Shilena Mekatir Scarn, an extremely handsome woman in her forties, did not yet, however, repair the oversight, leaving Blake at something of an awkward disadvantage.

"Well, introductions are customary, if rudimentary, where I come from," he said. "I'm Blake. Roj Blake."

"Who could doubt it...?" she mused, then stopped and turned to him. "Why are you here, Blake?"

He was slightly taken aback at that, but soon recovered and embarked on a brief explanation of the strategic reasons for wanting to see the Federation expelled from the Proxima system.

"Not the reasons you tell _him_ ," she said. "I fully understand the military situation, please do not underestimate me. I mean, the real reason... _Your_ reason."

 _Really?_ , he thought, and took a breath. "We had... a setback, a short time ago... Since then, I've been trying to get us back to where we were, with some success... An attack on Space Command Headquarters, and then shortly after, a real intelligence breakthrough, one that..." He smiled guardedly. "One that I can't talk about."

"Not _even_ to an ally?"

"Not even to an ally."

"I see."

"Madame Scarn...?"

"Shilena, please."

"Shilena... You seem... how can I put this...?"

"Angry?"

"Actually, no, I wouldn't have said that. You seem... to know the intricacies of the way this world is organised, perhaps better-" He stopped himself, and tried to find a better way of expressing the thought.

"-Better than my husband?"

"Frankly, yes... I almost think we'd be better... No, I'll stop there."

"Probably best."

"What I plan to do," Blake said, voice growing more urgent, "is inflict a single, devastating defeat on the occupying forces... Oh, make no mistake, it will be pretty spectacular, if it comes off like we've been planning, but I need to know..." He stopped to consider his words again.

"I won't be here very long," he continued. "It'll be on to the next mission for us, and I need to know that once we're gone the campaign here will be conducted as well as it really _needs_ to be. I think you're the one to ask, honestly... Do you think you can take your world, _all_ your worlds, back from the Federation...?"

"If you play your part, and destroy the command centre," she replied. "I don't see why not."

"I'm very glad to hear you say that," he said.

"How glad?" She stood very close to him now.

"About _this_ glad," he said, a note of what might have been gentle apology in his voice and in his expression, and he stepped back one pace.

"A pity," she said.

"Probably," he replied, a little ruefully.

* * *

**309**

**Karstus**

They made their way across the barren surface just as the distant star was starting to disappear below the horizon, and quickened their pace, keenly aware of the rapidly dropping temperature... The barren surface of Karstus had temperatures just barely able to support life during the day, but at night nothing they had brought with them could possibly keep them alive for very long.

Once in the shelter of the caves, and having descended to the levels once used as a base, Grant, Avral and their tiny band of followers, bringing them up to six in total, busied themselves reactivating the essential systems. Gradually, light and heat and other necessary resources were brought back on line. Having spent that time in silence, the first thing Avral said when she had leisure to do so was something that made Del Grant pause and stare with a haunted look in his eye.

"I can feel her here..." she said. "It's almost like she isn't..."

She found it impossible to complete the sentence, and not because of the insubstantial presence at her side. Avral was still unaware of Avalon standing there, and only Grant was aware of the terrible irony of her words. Avalon reached out and made as if to stroke her daughter's hair, but withdrew her intangible hand at the last moment before she had to see it pass straight through.

"That's natural enough," he said, speaking to Avral but looking at Avalon, and as the daughter walked away from that spot there may have been something reproachful in the mother's gaze as she looked back at him.

Avral picked up the bundle Grant had recently set down on a side-table in the old main operations room, and carefully unwrapped the teleport bracelet. "How does it work?"

He came over and took it from her, almost reverently. A few moments of hesitation, and he manipulated the controls on the bracelet in a very precise order, and as they watched the device seemed to come to life, the coloured panels faintly glowing and pulsing. Avral thought she could hear something, a faint oscillating sound, just and only just on the edge of her hearing.

"You hear that?" she asked him.

"No," he said. "But at least we know it works."

"So that's it, then..."

"That's it," he said.

"Now we wait."

"Now we wait," he agreed. "For Blake to come back." He looked at her, and smiled. "I think the time has come."

* * *

**The Liberator**

" _INFORMATION_ ," Zen boomed across the flight deck from the smooth hemispherical interface built into one of the bulkheads, lights dancing underneath the semi-transparent casing. " _POSSIBLE EXPLOSIVE DEVICE DETECTED ON BOARD_."

"Possible...?" On his way to his station already, Darvin ran the last few paces with no little difficulty and scanned the readouts. "What do you mean by that?"

"Checking," said Caul. "Zen, where are you getting this from...? I'm seeing nothing out of the ordinary."

Blake ran down the stairs and over to the foot of the bank of stations so she could see them all, Juni only a few paces behind her. Even as what looked like another crisis loomed, she could not help but notice that Juni and Caul pointedly did not look at each other, and felt that pang of guilt again. What was it she had said to Darvin...? _One more good thing I've destroyed_...

"Running full internal sweep..." said Juni. "Bear with me, this will take a little time."

"Time we might not have," said Rissa, the last of them to take her station, finishing toweling off her hair before throwing the towel with remarkable precision across a distance of at least fifteen feet across the back of her usual seat at the front.

"I realise that," said Juni, voice showing the strain, "But it's something _I_ can do, and so I'm doing it."

"Zen," said Blake, trying and succeeding remarkably well in keeping her voice calm. "What makes you think there's an explosive device on board...?"

" _THERE ARE SIGNS_."

They all looked at each other a little askance. "Zen, are you going a little odd?" inquired Rissa.

" _PARAMETERS ARE NOT DEFINED_."

"Where is it...?" Blake demanded. "Where exactly is this device?"

" _DEVICE IS LOCATED ON HABITATION DECKS_."

"What...?" Darvin looked up in disbelief. "That's not very precise." He looked at Blake. "There's something not right here..." he said.

"Other than the presence of an explosive device somewhere close by?" she replied.

"If there is one!"

"Care to bet your life on that...?" Blake moved around to Juni's station. "How's that scan coming?"

"Slowly," she replied with exaggerated calm, and shared a brief fatalistic smile with Blake, who moved around to Caul on the opposite side of the bank of consoles.

"Caul, what else could cause this? Think quickly, no pressure!"

"Um... A fault with Zen's sensors, maybe. None of us knows exactly how that all works. None of us have dared try to interfere with his operations, for obvious reasons."

"Zen," said Blake desperately. "Please try to help us understand this... What are the signs...?"

" _POWER BUILDUP OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN AND UNKNOWN TYPE OF ENERGY... POWER INCREASING RAPIDLY... INFORMATION ON CONTAINMENT SYSTEM IS UNAVAILABLE, THEREFORE INTEGRITY CANNOT BE GUARANTEED_."

"Lovely..." said Darvin. "Super, in fact. So... we may have an power buildup, somewhere, we know not where, and a device that may explode and take out the ship, or may not... We don't know where it is, and we don't know how long we may or may _not_ have... Any questions?"

"I have one," said Juni. "What are our options if this scan doesn't pinpoint the location of our problem?"

"Good question," said Darvin.

"Zen?" Blake turned to the curved shell full of blinking lights. "What _are_ our options?"

" _EVACUATION OF LIBERATOR BY LIFE CAPSULE REMAINS VIABLE, THOUGH TIMESCALE AND SAFETY MARGIN REMAIN UNKNOWN FACTORS_."

"Just when I have my cabin the way I like it," Rissa complained.

"Thoughts, anyone...?" Blake asked.

"Let's get the hell out of here springs to mind," said Darvin, not looking up from his displays until, suddenly, he looked up directly at Blake with a piercing gaze. "Well...?" he demanded. "Wait for the full scan and hope...? Or evacuate? Which is it to be?"

Blake could hear the blood rushing in her ears, keenly aware of their rapt attention, focused on her, and even more keenly aware of some unknown device somewhere on this ship, counting down the hours, the minutes or possibly just the seconds to the deaths of every one of them...

"BLAKE?"

* * *

The Liberator's makeshift morgue was silent, but it was no longer in complete darkness. A luminescence, faint at first, gradually intensified further and further until it became singularly intense, flooding the whole space with its fiery glow. At the centre of it was the prone body of Faal, giving off light through his skin in waves of some unfathomable energy... At the very epicentre of the disturbance, where the light was most intense, the pearl laid on his chest glowed incandescently.

A finger twitched... Then the entire hand.


	10. Chapter 10

**The planet Chenga - The year 300 of the Second Calendar**

As the planet's star reached its zenith, the morning mist gradually dissipated and visibility amid the thick forest improved. Narrow shafts of light glinted through the thick canopy of leaves above, forming criss-crossing patterns of peculiar and distracting artifacts on the vision of anyone present.

It was then they made their move, anticipating that their quarry would be at his most relaxed, if only briefly.

They had stalked him slowly, creeping closer and closer in virtually complete silence, more than covered by the sound of rushing water from the gorge, but at the last moment they sprinted, caring little whether he heard their approach or not... They were both armed and ready, and his response would take precious time...

"Hi there!" the tall blonde woman said cheerily, kicking the seated form over, and he collapsed without resistance. Which was odd... She realised what had happened just a little too late.

"Hi yourself!" the voice called laconically from a few metres away, and she turned to find his weapon pointed at her. As her companion moved forward, he adjusted his aim to a point midway between them - The slightest movement and he could shoot either of them down long before they reached him.

The blonde woman thought seriously about raising her long-barrelled gun, but soon dismissed the possibility. She shot a quick glance down at the figure she had kicked over with surprising ease and saw, as she now expected, a crude mannequin made from clothes stuffed with soil and leaves. "This is unusual," she said. "No one has ever managed to do this before. Not to us."

"You haven't faced me before," said Del Grant, carefully moving toward them while keeping his gun trained and maintaining his advantage. He turned his attention to the other woman, the dark-haired one. "But then, last time we were on the same side, weren't we?"

"Mere chance," she answered, a wary look on her face. _That face_ , the same face, the face of... _No_ , he thought. Keep this professional, keep it all together. This _can_ be done.

"The lot of the mercenary," he said.

"A coincidence?" she demanded. "A number comes up, we get assigned to track it down, and it turns out to be my old... _friend_. How are you, Del?"

"I've been better, frankly. But that wasn't what I came here to talk to you about."

The chain of events gradually became clear to the forty-something dark-haired woman, and a smile slowly developed on her face. "You... were looking for us."

"That's a strange way of going about things," said the blonde woman nonchalantly, poking at the fallen mannequin absently with the toe of her boot.

"This is a strange place. I wanted to talk to you out here, where no one else is listening."

"Did you now?" the blonde woman mused. "A little dangerous. You know what happens here...? You know what could happen to you?"

"I heard you had gone home," he said, still only speaking to the dark-haired one. "Didn't quite believe it... It's taken me a while to find you."

"The hunting is better here," said the blonde woman. "And the remuneration too."

"Perhaps I have something better to offer," he said, looking at her only briefly.

"I certainly hope so," she replied, with just the vaguest hint of a threat in her voice.

"How's my...?" The dark-haired woman hesitated, unsure how to phrase her question. "How is she? Have you _told_ her yet, Del?" The two women shared a slight smile, and it was clear they were used to sharing a thousand private jokes. These two had worked together a long time.

"That's-" He stopped suddenly, as he caught sight of something in the shadow of one of the trees that made him go pale, and despite himself he reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow, visibly shaken. They both noted his long pause, the brittle tension in his jawline, the look in his eyes just before he answered, and they glanced at each other curiously.

" _That's_ what I came here to talk to you about," he finished, and both Zee and Barr listened carefully to what he said next.

* * *

**Karstus - 9 years later**

"Do you ever regret what you did?" asked Avral, looking over at Del Grant where he lay on the nearby camp bed, a few feet away from hers in the otherwise empty dormitory. She would never disturb him if she thought he was asleep, but she had caught the glint of the night-light on his open eyes, staring at nothing in particular.

"Regret?" he asked. " _Which_ regret?"

"Finding _her_? Bringing her here... Training her to be... You know."

"It wasn't my idea."

"I know, it was her last order... But you didn't need to do it. You could just have left. No one would have blamed you."

"No one?"

"I wouldn't have," she said. "I understood better than any of you thought I did."

"I'm sorry," he offered, as though it was something he had been waiting for the opportunity to say for a while. "When you saw _her_ for the first time, it must have been-"

"-I coped," she said. "I think because... they're not _quite_ the same. Though I can see how others would be fooled."

" _No_ ," he replied. "They're not the same. Just close enough for our purpose. And here we are, nine years on. I wish I could be certain it was all worth it."

"It was," she decided. "With Avalon, just the name alone inspires people... The name is indestructible, even if the body..."

"Like Blake."

"I suppose we'll find that out, won't we... Still no answering pulse?"

"Not yet."

* * *

**The Liberator**

Blake's hand-held detector was registering so much data that it couldn't quite cope, and she shut it down irritably before turning and running back down the corridor. It took a couple of minutes to reach the others, just long enough to get slightly out of breath... Too much time confined to a spaceship the last few months.

"Well?" was all that Darvin asked, busy with his preparations. He and Caul almost collided in the long narrow launch bay, and carefully navigated around each other to continue working at the wall-panels, checking all the readings were optimal for what they were about to attempt.

"Readings didn't make sense," said Blake. "That whole section is shut down... Looked like Zen did it automatically."

" _INFORMATION_ ," Zen's voice issued from a speaker on the wall. " _SENSORS UNABLE TO RECONCILE THE EMISSIONS IN THE HABITATION AREA WITH ANY KNOWN FORM OF RADIATION... OVERLOAD BELIEVED TO BE IMMINENT._ "

"So Zen is going to initiate that internal configuration program again," said Juni. "Will that get rid of whatever's in there?"

"It'll get rid of... everything that's in there," said Caul, finding it difficult to meet her eye. "Or at least, that's the idea. All safeguards disabled."

"It's disconcerting enough to be here while that's happening, even with the safeguards," said Blake. "Believe me."

"So we push off," said Darvin while he worked. "Launch life capsules, while Zen re-configures the ship, hopefully saves it, and then comes for us."

"That's the plan," said Blake.

"Good," Juni remarked. "I was afraid it might be something a little desperate."

" _Hey_ , desperate is where we live," Darvin grinned, with a wild look in his eyes, before slamming the inspection panel closed. ""Good to go! Now, where's my girl?!"

"I don't know... Will _I_ do?" asked Rissa, hurrying toward them laden with several packs of supplies. "Now, no squabbling, kids... Share these out."

" _RECOMMENDATION_ ," said Zen. " _LIBERATOR CREW MUST EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY TO GUARANTEE IMMEDIATE SAFETY... NO FURTHER WARNING WILL BE GIVEN._ "

"Well, that was to the point," said Blake. "Into your capsules, please." There was a little jostling around in the narrow bay as they all rushed to the capsules which had their own coats and limited personal effects in them... It was time to abandon ship.

* * *

The life capsules launched at high speed, accelerating in the tubes to almost the speed of light, and almost immediately upon leaving they entered into the subspacial dimension the Liberator used to broadcast signals and receive sensor data. To say it was a bumpy ride for the five inhabitants would be putting it somewhat mildly, and all of them were buffeted around mercilessly.

 _"I think one of my teeth has come loose,"_ Rissa complained over the intercom.

 _"Teeth?!"_ yelled Darvin over the noise in his capsule. _"I think one of my legs has come loose!"_

 _"I'm getting strange readings,"_ Caul warned. _"Something's happening."_

 _"I see it too,"_ said Blake. _"I think I'm the other side of it... What is that...?"_

_"Unknown..."_

_"Juni..."_ Blake began. _"We seem to be one side of that... artifact on the sensors, and the others are on the other side... But it's pulling us in... We're drifting from the flight-plan!"_

 _"It's an object!"_ said Darvin. _"Asteroid, maybe... Got pulled in by some other ship that used these networks before us!"_

 _"That's interesting!"_ cried Juni. _"Maybe we could stop to study it!"_

 _"Not recommended!"_ said Caul, and Juni certainly had no idea whether he was in earnest or not. _"We're all going to have to compensate using manual control!"_

 _"Manual control?!"_ That was Juni again.

 _"Look,"_ said Darvin. _"Don't worry, I've got this! Slave your controls to mine... Got me?!"_

 _"I can't,"_ said Blake. _"I think that thing is blocking certain wavelengths!"_

 _"Nor me!"_ said Juni.

 _"Right!"_ said Darvin after a very anxious few moments for all of them. _"I'm sending you two all my data... Getting it?!"_

 _"Too much,"_ said Juni. _"My flight computer can't cope all at once!"_

 _"Look!"_ said Blake. _"Don't worry, all right... Just do your best! Juni, I can see you... Uh, slave yours to me, all right?! The others... See you at the other end... Hopefully!"_

 _"It'll be all right,"_ Darvin reassured them. _"Even if we get separated, the Liberator will come for us all eventually!"_

_"We hope!"_

_"Not helping, Rissa!"_

Blake tried to calm herself, utilising half-remembered exercises learned long ago on Pelios, as she locked Juni's capsule and hers into the same manual control interface, and started to input the co-ordinates... At that point, she noticed the alert being displayed on her other console, and quickly skim-read the accompanying report... _Signal received... Priority. Implement emergency redirection?_

Without even thinking, she chose _Yes._ A broadcast from System technology, somewhere not very far away in galactic terms...? That had to be something important, and what's more a virtual guarantee of landing these things somewhere habitable.

"Darvin?!" she shouted into the intercom. "You getting that signal?!" There was a brief message with the signal, and at last the decryption came up on her monitor... " _Watchword Avalon_."

"Just me!" replied Juni. "What signal?"

"Never mind!" called Blake. "Hang tight!" _Hang tight_?! When had she ever said _hang tight_? "We're going to be fine, Juni...! We're going now... Going to see her!"

 _"Blake...?! My console has just gone down! Everything's down, including the lights...! And...!"_ And the intercom, one of the last powered systems to go before the capsule went dark.

* * *

Blake and Juni's life capsules impacted on the vast cold plain and gouged deep troughs into the landscape as they traveled for a considerable distance before friction finally arrested their motion. The surface of each vessel was pitted and scorched, but the interior intact. All systems dead, but the life support bubble had persisted long enough to preserve both occupants.

They emerged, gasping, into the thin atmosphere, Blake a little before Juni. She scrabbled free of the damaged hatchway and emerged from the cloud of scalding steam enveloping her capsule, protected by her heavy padded clothing. Even so, the thick protective jacket was damaged by the heat, and Blake struggled out of it and discarded it on the ground, immediately feeling the biting cold of the planet surface.

Karstus, this place was called. She had been able to learn that before all systems crashed and shut down. Somewhere, here, there were other people - hopefully including Avalon. Hadn't she traveled on the Liberator? Not many people could still be out there with a piece of the original Liberator in their possession.

"Juni!" she yelled, and was relieved when her friend emerged from the steam and smoke of her own crash-landing, disheveled and shaken but apparently not badly hurt. Both of them had made it, that was the important thing. Now, they had a chance of survival... if shelter could be found, and soon.

"We made it?" Juni phrased it as a question, and Blake nodded.

"We did..." She looked around. "I don't see the others."

"Are they here somewhere, do you think...?"

Blake wanted to say yes, desperately wanted to, but in the end she shook her head. "I think they went off-course. Just a couple of degrees, but that far out..."

"A couple of degrees, in deep space..." Juni said. "They could be anywhere."

"And the Liberator will find them, and us," Blake tried to reassure her. "We just need to keep our bracelets on."

"The bracelets, yes..." Juni held hers up, and tapped it with her finger. Frowning, Blake did the same, and found to her horror there was no faint hum of power from the bracelet, no lit-up panels when she tried to activate it... The device was dead... As dead as the life capsule had been as soon as it arrived in the vicinity of this planet.

"It's something to do with this place," Blake reasoned. "Powered devices just don't work here... Some kind of interference."

"Right!" a voice called, and they both spun around to see the slender figure of a young-woman with dark hair, a short cloak wrapped around her, emerge from the smoke of the crash. She had used it as cover to approach them without being seen. _This girl is_ _good_ , Blake found herself thinking as she approached, even as she and Juni both raised their guns to match the one she held pointed towards them.

"Here to welcome us?" Juni wondered quietly, but it seemed the girl did hear given the reproachful look she directed at her.

"You're right about the power devices," said the girl calmly, not at all troubled by the two weapons pointed at _her._ "And that undoubtedly includes your energy weapons."

Blake kept her gun trained. "A bit of a risk on your part. These weapons are a product of alien technology."

"So were your lifeboats, I assume," said the girl. "And look at the state of them. I'll take the risk. My gun fires projectiles, you see."

" _Ah_ ," said Blake. She tried smiling, and that at least seemed to surprise the girl. Well, if that came as a surprise...

With a brief look at Juni as if to say _Do what I do_ , Blake tossed away her gun.

* * *

Darvin, Rissa and Caul struggled from their life capsules with what felt like the last of their strength and rested for a few precious moments amid the sea of what could only be called... wreckage. For as far as the eye could see, they were surrounded by piles of junk, so thick and so deep that nothing of the planet's actual surface, assuming there was one, could be discerned.

Off in the distance, very large objects jutted out of the landscape, and Rissa at least, with her enhanced vision, recognised them for what they were... or had once been. Abandoned spaceships, some of them very large ones, of various origins and affiliations, some identifiable but most a mystery to her. Looking around, scanning the landscape, she spotted what looked to be a complex of buildings... A population centre? A base of some sort?

"What is this place...?" she demanded of no one in particular.

"Wait, I'll ask..." said Darvin. "S'cuse me...! Where-? _Oh_ , no one there."

"Grumpy today."

"Being shaken about like that does that to me. Caul, you all right?"

"Yeah..." Caul was investigating some of the items of refuse around them, finding that it was all kinds of things, perishable and not, organic and not... The most common material was a thick sludge that seemed to bind everything else together, _so_ thick it did not prevent them from moving about or stick to their footwear with any particular insistence. "This place is a junkyard..." He peered into the distance. "A very big junkyard."

"Planet sized?" wondered Rissa.

"Let's not get carried away," said Darvin. A moment later, they all looked at each other, concerned, as it became clear they were not alone after all. Several people were making their way, clambering their way across the obstacles the whole landscape presented, towards them.

Crouching down, they waited, weapons ready, and at the first sight of a UniS trooper Rissa fired and the man fell back into cover. "Did you see that?" she asked.

"UniS," Darvin said grimly.

"Yeah, but the others he was with..."

"You get a good look?"

"Better than good, with my spiffing eyesight," Rissa confirmed. "Civilians, most of them, with a mere smattering of UniS so-called soldiers. And all covered in shit, or whatever the hell this stuff is."

"Someone's been having a worse day than us," said Caul.

Rissa smiled at him. "Might be..."

"You there!" called a voice. "Can we talk?" Before Darvin could reply, a short stocky man about fifty or so emerged from his cover and walked towards them. "I'm sorry if we startled you... We thought you were _them_."

"Them?" Darvin looked at his two companions, but they were all equally nonplussed.

"The invaders, man! Where you been hiding?"

"Hiding... Yeah..."

"If we'd realised quicker you were just scavengers..."

"Scavengers, yeah... That's us. Scavengers." Darvin looked at Caul and Rissa again. "Scavengers." He turned back to the spokesman. "So... we're being invaded then?"

"Oh yeah, mate..." the stocky man replied. "That we very much are."

* * *

"I was expecting _Avalon_..." said Blake, really just for the sake of trying to engage in some way with the girl and... _hopefully_ , not get shot. The longer this confrontation lasted, the more the prospects for that did not look to be going their way.

"And I was expecting an old man with a scarred face," said Avral. As a response it was interesting, but not exactly what Blake might have hoped for. Neither the young woman's attention nor her gun-arm wavered for so much as a moment.

Blake moved forward slowly, hesitantly. "Well, I'm doing my best..." she said, trying to disarm the situation - "Give me time..." She smiled, broadly, sweetly even, in a way she seldom did or ever had. Without _entirely_ knowing why.

" _Time_ ," Avral mused. "That's a lot to ask." Was Blake imagining it or was there something there, something in her eyes that spoke of something other than hard ruthlessness? Just for a moment...

"You _want_ to trust me," said Blake, slowly moving forward again. "I can tell." The smile again, _that_ smile. Why was she doing that?!

"Trust?" Avral demanded, like the word was an obscenity. At the moment Blake had said it, something in her demeanor had changed, and her aim, having shifted a little as she seemed to relax her grip on the gun, moved back to cover them both.

"Was that the wrong thing to say?" Blake asked, expecting to be shot at any moment...

"Blake!" Juni yelled. Not a cry of alarm as Blake first thought, but a warning... Someone else was approaching, scrambling down the side of the low ridge at the edge of the plain. An older man, but none the less quick on his feet, hurried towards them. As his face became identifiable, Blake found herself wondering... Where had she seen it before?

 _Yes_... Back on Pelios, Alek had given her all the available information on the period of the Blake insurrection and the original Liberator... This man had joined them for a while. Not long, certainly not long enough to be counted among the principal crew, but he _had_ been there. What was his name...?

"Are you from the Liberator?" Del Grant demanded, just at the moment Blake successfully retrieved his name from her memory. She nodded. As ever, it was strange to find herself meeting someone who had been involved in those long-ago events. If all went well, or at least _something_ went well, it would be Avalon soon.

"She never said that to me," Avral said, keeping her gun level.

"Did you bother to ask?" Grant stepped forward. "My name is-"

"-Del Grant," Blake said, and Grant turned to his companion and gave her a look that said _You see?_.

"Put your gun away," he told Avral. "They're not even armed."

"They _were_ ," said Avral, nodding at the discarded Liberator weapons. "They just don't work."

Grant saw the weapons, and smiled faintly. "Handy little guns, I seem to remember," he said. "But they have their drawbacks... Such as a separate power source. Not much use on a planet with so much interference flying around." Blake and Juni looked at each other, recognising the reason not just for the guns' failure to work but also for their eventful descent through the atmosphere. "Isn't the Liberator shielded?" he asked. "It used to be."

Before Juni could say anything, Blake replied. "We don't have the Liberator."

"What happened?"

"Long story."

"Right. Then come back with us and tell it." As Grant said that, Avral lowered and holstered her weapon, seeing little point in continuing to hold it. There was, however, no accompanying indication that she herself thought any differently about the new arrivals.

"Yes," said Juni breezily, with just a hint of passive aggressive warning. "Let's tell them _everything_."

"This is Avral," Grant said as they walked, after Blake and Juni had retrieved their weapons.

"Your bodyguard?" asked Juni.

"A _senior_ operative in our movement," Grant replied, and did not miss Avral's amused reaction at his choice of words.

"This is Juni," said Blake, and hesitated before finishing her introduction. "And my name is Blake." Both of them turned to look at her in response to that.

"I have to ask..." Grant began.

"Ask me anything you want."

"Roj Blake... Is it true that he's dead...? Some have their doubts."

"He _is_ dead. I'm sorry. He's been dead for close to twenty-eight years."

Grant took that information in his stride, but it had a visible impact on Avral even thought she tried to disguise that. Blake remembered her words during their standoff... _And I was expecting an old man with a scarred face_...

"Are you his daughter?" asked Grant cautiously.

"Not exactly."

"Another long story, no doubt," said Avral, but Blake did not get the impression it was said with the same suspicion as before... Was the girl mellowing toward them a little? Towards _her_? And why was _that_ question foremost in her mind...? It suddenly felt _very_ important.

Blake made herself concentrate... Grant was the one they had to make a connection with first and foremost. He was the important one. _For now_...

She found herself watching Avral, on and off, as they walked, and thought she saw something a little familiar in her too. Not from Alek's data dump, for this girl probably wasn't even born till a few years after the massacre on Gauda Prime, but there was something... _Of course_ , even her name suggested an association...

"We came to see Avalon," Blake announced abruptly, and came close to regretting her words when both Grant and Avral looked suddenly guarded once more. "Will that be possible?"

"Yes," said Grant, sounding a little unsure of his own answer. "Before long."

"I'll take you to see her," said Avral, turning away and walking again. "Not now... We'll rest out the night, then I'll take you. Tomorrow."

"Will you?" Grant asked, looking at her more in concern than anything else.

"Yes," said Avral.

* * *

**The planet Abisian**

Tam Nivri - that was their guide's name - led his disparate party of fugitives and stragglers, now including Darvin, Caul and Rissa, along pathways through the junk that no one not intimately acquainted with this place would be likely to know, and it seemed like a long time before there was any thought of stopping for breath. When they eventually, briefly, did, as far as Darvin was concerned it was question time for their new leader.

So far, apart from Nivri's name, they had managed to glean only that this world was known as Abisian, or more frequently by its colloquial name, _The Dump_. "Seriously," Darvin said to Nivri when he got a chance. "If it isn't Unified Systems attacking you, then who is it...?"

"Oh, _mate_ , I don't know what they're called..." Nivri said, crouching down in the wreckage. "But we've been hearing reports lately... The raids have been getting worse. Never thought they would hit us. I mean, don't get me wrong, we got plenty of value here, but only to those willing to do the work to separate it all and get it sorted, know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean," said Caul, assuming a response was expected.

"So, you didn't expect them to target you...?" asked Rissa, and Nivri shook his head.

"Look at it the way," he said. "Our UniS garrison has been keeping Central Command on Proxima Three informed about everything out here, all right? And info flows the other way too... I mean, there was nothing suggesting we were in any immediate danger... They just came at us out of nowhere, years before we thought they might be a problem..."

"Have you seen them?" Rissa demanded.

"I caught a glimpse, yeah," said Nivri, and shivered. "Look, what I heard, before communications all got jammed, was that they were asking, very insistently I might add, about some... relic."

"Relic?" Of all the words Darvin had expected to hear, that wasn't one of them.

"Yeah... They're religious types, it seems... They _do_ look it. The thing is, I don't know what makes them think we've got their damn thing of theirs here. You've seen this place, right? We got scrap, and lots of it... Unless one of our old ships somehow got this _relic_ thing lost on it. Suppose anything's possible."

"Not _anything_ ," said Caul, earning a curious look from Nivri.

"Describe them," urged Rissa, hoping the idea that had formed in her mind was wrong. "What kind of weapons, armour...?"

"Weapons...? Blades mostly. Wicked looking ancient things. Some had guns, but they only seem to use them if the blades weren't enough. No armour, none. Just these strange white robe things, with dark patches down them... Looked like-"

" _Blood_ , yeah." Rissa turned to Darvin. "Boss..."

"Yeah, I know," said Darvin, looking very scared. "The Children of Light." He had just enough presence of mind in that moment to wonder, _What are the Children of Light looking at finding in this place...?_

He looked up, and just for a moment he saw a figure watching him from a range of thirty feet or so... He blinked and it was gone. _She_ was gone. He suddenly felt very cold.

"Did you see that?"

"See what, boss?" inquired Rissa cheerfully, while Caul followed Darvin's gaze and tried to discern what he meant.

"Nothing... Never mind. It's nothing." Despite what he had just said, Darvin knew it wasn't nothing. He had seen it... Seen _her_. "Tarna," he breathed, too quietly for the others to hear.

* * *

**Karstus**

Blake and Avral started out early the next day, allowing just long enough for the weak starlight to warm up the surface sufficiently. A walk at a brisk pace along the plain where Liberator's life capsules had impacted, and then up one of the ridges, then up another, until Blake realised the terrain had become a range of craggy hills, and settled in for what might be a long climb.

She eyed the gun holstered at Avral's side. Normally, all her instincts would be screaming _danger_ at her, but the girl had allowed her to take an identical weapon along, and indeed was leading the way with her back to her companion. _Trusted...?_ Perhaps not quite yet, but her feelings on the matter were obviously very different from those of the previous day.

"She's up here so no one will disturb her," was Avral's response when Blake asked where they were going, and she kept more or less silent till they reached their destination.

It was a few moments before Blake realised what exactly she was looking at, and when she did her entire body chilled, and not just because of the sweat drying in the cold breeze, or because the oxygen was thin enough to make breathing a little bit of a chore. She walked forward and examined the pile of rocks, and brushed her hand over the crudely-made marker... The marking, just one word, still legible...

Avalon.

She turned to Avral. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

"You want to know the real reason?"

"Always."

Avral found a convenient place to sit. "I wanted to bring you out here alone, and give you as many chances as possible to show your true intentions. You could have killed me, or taken me prisoner, any number of times today, if that's what you were here for."

"I see," said Blake, sitting next to her on a neighboring rock. Not an entirely inaccurate statement, but not complete either.

"So I can only assume you really are who you say you are, and you really are here to help us."

"Are you glad about that?"

"Yes," said Avral, turning to her. "Yes, I am." Blake finally decided she was _not_ imagining the oddly pleasant tension between them - Certainly, it was more pleasant when Avral wasn't holding a gun pointed at her.

"You don't find it easy to trust."

"I trust far too easily," was the reply. "I just didn't know that till recently."

"I'm sorry," said Blake, turning back to the grave. "How long?"

"Nine years ago... Nearly ten."

Blake frowned, finding it difficult to reconcile that information. "But Avalon..."

"We have a replacement."

"A replacement?"

Avral's faint smile was bitter. "Del knew someone, you see. He had known her before he met Avalon, and at first he thought she _was_ her... Sure enough, the resemblance was remarkable. And with a little work, _Barr_ was made to look and sound so much like my mother that even I could almost be fooled... Sometimes."

"I'm sorry."

"You said that." Though her words were reproving, the look on Avral's face was more one of slight amusement, before suddenly becoming very cold. As she spoke she looked away. "Avalon was assassinated, by agents of President Scarn... They shot her, and she survived that, but that was a trick... While she recovered from the wound, it became apparent she had been infected by a targeted virus... One designed specifically for _her_." She turned to look at Blake again. "They really were determined to get her."

"I'm-" Blake stopped before she could say _sorry_ yet again.

* * *

"Are you really called Blake?" They descended by more or less the same route they had climbed, and this time instead of silence there was easy conversation between them. Avral had clearly been wanting to ask this particular question for a while.

"I am _now_. I was called Mara for a long time, but that wasn't my real name either. I think I'll probably most likely die as Blake." Realising what she had said, Blake laughed briefly. "Though not too soon, I hope."

"What was your original name?"

"I've no idea."

"That must be strange."

"My father died before I was born, and I barely even remember my mother. The man who named me _Mara_ is the closest thing I had to family." _Alek_ \- dead, like so many others. "Till very recently, anyway."

"And now?"

"When you brought me up here, I was hoping I might see the other life capsules down there somewhere, but it seems likely now... They went somewhere else. The others are gone. Just me now, and Juni." She snorted. "And Orac, if _he_ counts."

"Till the Liberator comes back and brings you all on board."

"If it does. The Liberator might be destroyed."

"I suppose then, you'll fight with what you have. My mother managed to fight both the Federation and the Andromedans very successfully without any superior ships like the Liberator."

"Yes, she did." Blake thought for a moment, looking down onto the plain below. "So those caves are shielded from the interference that shuts off the power?"

"That's right. Something to do with the composition of the rock."

"How fortunate."

"Sounds like you have another idea about that."

"So how do your ships function? I mean, I assume you arrived and plan to leave here on one."

"Some kind of generated counter-pulse... I can get you more detailed information on it if you'd like."

"Counter-pulse..."

"Just what are you thinking...? _Blake_."

"For right now, nothing... Just a thought." She smiled, and reflected once again that she suddenly seemed to be doing that a lot, even though their situation had seldom been more precarious. When she cautiously looked over at Avral, it was to find that she was smiling too.

It was enough to make Blake feel a little giddy, more so than the low level of oxygen could explain.

* * *

**Abisian**

The records, stored on primitive ancient drives, were slow to give up their secrets, frustratingly so for Miko. There was a real danger the required information would not be available when he arrived, and if that was the case... Well, who knew. Tylner might shrug casually, and observe that time had little meaning, or he might punish those responsible for the delay with a severity that Miko once would have found unimaginable.

Once. Before he had become aware of the Light. The Light, and what it contained... What it offered.

Tylner was unpredictable, but then he operated on a level of mysteries that Miko was not yet ready to comprehend. Not yet. One day, the old man had cryptically suggested, he might.

"You have it?" the gravelly voice intoned just behind him, and despite himself Miko turned with his heart beating considerably faster. He forced himself to look unconcernedly at Tylner's face with it's empty eye socket on one side.

"Soon," he said. "The drives are yielding up their accumulated data now, but sifting through the relevant information will take some time."

"Very well," Tylner said calmly, and turned away, to Miko's immense relief, the ends of his white robe trailing against the dusty floor of the Abisian operations room... Then, he turned back, and Miko felt uneasy once more. It wasn't yet over.

"You have... seen them here?"

Miko did not have to ask what he meant. "Yes," he said. "Here and there. Not many in this place... But I have seen them."

"The lost ones are our harbingers," said Tylner, though it was a tenet Miko was well aware of by now. "Those who are able to see them are blessed above all others... Remember that, Brother... Whatever occurs."

"I will, Brother." At that moment, Miko's attention was sought by one of the row of white-robed operators extracting the contents of the ancient drives, and he rushed over to view the displays coming up on the monitors. "It's here, Brother... We have it now..." As Tylner came over to join him, he read off the screen in his excitement, lips moving - Miko was not a strong reader. "The manifest, Brother... It _is_ definitely here... Any moment now, we will have a location. It _is_ here!"

"The One will be pleased."

"He will," Miko replied automatically. "What a joy to be the one to bring it to him... What an honour."

"Joy and honour are irrelevant, Brother..." said Tylner, as Miko should have anticipated. "All such things will pass when we join the Light... You see them, Brother...? Around us, at this moment? There are many in this room with us...!"

"No," Miko said with regret.

"They are _here_ ," Tylner said with savage intensity. "They have come to us, as we claim what is ours... What should never have been lost to us. If you are beginning to see them, Brother Miko, then you truly are one of us..." He closed his eyes. "The dead are with us."

* * *

" _INFORMATION_ ," said Zen. " _INTERNAL CONFIGURATION PROCEDURES ARRESTED... EMERGENCY CANCELLATION IMPLEMENTED... LIFE FORM DETECTED IN MEDICAL UNIT... INFORMATION BEING COLLATED_..."

 _"Zen,"_ said a weak voice, as Faal stumbled over to a wall-unit. "Report, please... What's happening?"

" _CREWMEMBER FAAL... RESURRECTED... EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN INITIATED... COMPLETE RESTART NECESSARY... GOING OFFLINE..._ "

"Zen!"

" _INFORMATION... LIBERATOR IS BEING BOARDED! EMERGENCY-!_ "

"Zen!"

As the medical unit switched to backup lighting and all systems other than life support powered down, the Liberator became silent, except for the loud clang that echoed throughout the habitation area as another ship linked with one of the airlocks.


	11. Chapter 11

**...**

**(Relevant extracts follow from the annals of the August Siblinghood of Morphenniel; Data adjunct 593A - The Federation Falls: From the Ashes... An Albatross)**

**...**

**The 4th century of the 2nd calendar**

**...**

**1st year**

In the turbulent history of those years between the end of the second and final Intergalactic War and the end of the Second Calendar itself some [redacted] years later, there are few institutions more durable, and more frustrating perhaps, than the **Presidium** of the **Unified Systems Alliance**. At first intended to be the sovereign body of the alliance, a status which became watered down by the many compromises necessary in the protracted negotiations to cement **UniS** 's existence, it finally established itself as an advisory body to the executive.

While the executive was an inner council appointed by the members of the Presidium, chaired by a person devoted to the principles of accountability and fairness, the systems of checks and balances worked perhaps surprisingly well... but once the executive power passed to a man who, to all intents and purposes, was an hereditary monarch unaccustomed to checks and balances, the result for the Presidium was inevitable decline...

The Presidium, however, even by the year **309** , still had a little weight to throw around...

**...**

**(Extracts concluded. Exiting backdoor... Deleting data retrieval signets... Deleted)**

**...**

On the planet Prautan, the Presidium had been convened, and the ranks of delegates in their vast sloping horseshoe talked among themselves in a low murmur, patient for now... The warming rays of Prautan's glorious climate around its equator beamed down on them through the transparent canopy high above, while the air conditioning kept them cool in their heavy robes of office.

All of them had been in place here for a long time, and it was almost certainly fair to say a certain complacenecy had set in. For all that there were still voices that spoke up against their sidelining by the Proximan monarchy, there were plenty more who were perfectly happy to lap up the numerous benefits of their position and let the governance of the erstwhile Alliance look after itself.

One delegate was awaited, the ceremonial Father of the Presidium, and nothing would begin without him... and he had just one final, brief appointment to take care of.

* * *

"So..." the Father of the Presidium said, leaning on his cane and allowing himself to be helped onto the soft, and for his tastes rather _low_ , couch, "Let us make this brief, shall we? I had rather hoped that more would have happened by this time." Hair silver, face wizened, he was one-hundred years and six days old, and intended to live considerably longer than that. Anyone who underestimated him due to his age would be making a very bad mistake.

"Apologies, Delegate Joban," said Dannen, his face as lean as it had been a decade earlier, and his oiled curly hair only just beginning to go grey at the temples. "Our mutual friend apologises for the delay. She wishes that she could have come here in person, but I'm sure you appreciate the risks..."

"Risks..." said Joban, elongating the word. "What risks are there...? She has my assurances for her safety."

"Well, there was that rather..." Dannen coughed. "Close call, some nine years ago now."

"That was Scarn... The Presidium, _now_ as _then_ , stands ready to support Avalon... You will find little has changed in that respect. All we needed was an opportunity... And that time has now come."

"Well, I hope this slight misunderstanding has not... overly troubled any of the parties involved," said Dannen. "She is at this moment engaged in vital business, and stands ready to do her part... To keep her bargain."

"Oh, I know she will, dear boy," said Joban. "We all know so much about each other, don't we... It would be a pity to break faith at this late stage."

* * *

Like all but one of Proxima Centauri's ten planets, Proxima I was a tiny barren rock. The side exposed directly to the red dwarf star's rays was permanently scorched, the side facing away just as permanently cold. There was a thin strip where landing might be possible, although nowhere was the planet's surface remotely habitable. It had long been speculated that this narrow strip around the planet's equator might be the location of President Scarn's most secure retreat and base of operations, the fabled Storm Mountain.

That speculation was wrong. Close, but wrong.

In the earliest days of human colonization, with the lushness and abundant resources of Proxima II presenting a very tempting prospect, it had been made a priority to investigate the likely stability of the star, so tiny and weak compared to humanity's own Sol, in the centuries and millennia to come - To that end, a solar observatory had been constructed just within the diameter of the star itself, protected by heavy shielding.

That had been over a thousand years before this 309th year of the Second Calendar, and the facility had grown into a vast space station, home to an industrial and military complex that enabled it to be to all intents and purposes independent of the rest of the system. While all attempts to secure Proxima II's long-term future by making it dependent only on the renewable resources of its star were fiercely resisted by Scarn, no expense had been spared in securing Storm Mountain's future, should anything go wrong.

Fabled it might be, rumoured even, but Storm Mountain was still a relatively well-kept secret. If it became widely known that Scarn had a luxury retreat and power base far removed from the many and complex problems facing Proxima II, there would undoubtedly be civil unrest. Even more so, if the destructive pulse slowly but surely approaching their system became public knowledge.

Scarn was ready.

* * *

**Storm Mountain**

The chamber was at the very heart of the structure, designed to withstand even the complete destruction of Storm Mountain if necessary and function as a survival chamber and lifeboat, ejecting automatically and maintaining life support until such time as its sole occupant could be rescued. Under normal circumstances, it functioned as a private office, a command centre and a refuge for President Erno Scarn... and at this moment, the President was in residence.

Scarn's enormous bulk was perched on the chair at the very centre of the spherical chamber, its gravity focused on the rounded housing into which the chair was built, thus enabling it to turn in any direction - up, down or sideways - to allow Scarn to focus on the multitude of screens that reported the events of his empire to him and enabled him to command every detail from the chair, protected from gravity as much as from the immediate consequences of his decisions.

Alone. Increasingly, as he got older, the way he liked it.

With only the faintest whirring, the chair adjusted its position, turning Scarn forty-nine degrees clockwise and thirty-five degrees to the right without the slightest discomfort for the President, as the relative gravity reoriented automatically. Scarn looked up, awaking from his light doze, and barked, "Report."

_"Admiral Brenban, sir... Regular update."_

"Go on."

_"Continuing to monitor the advance of the pulse... Nothing currently to report. It, um, keeps going at the speed of light, and is expected to arrive at Proxima Centauri in approximately"-_

-"I know, I know..."

Just slightly over four years... Plenty of time, as far as Scarn was concerned. Not that he _was_ , particularly. The news of the pulse launched by Kerr Avon from Earth just over three solar months ago had felt like a disaster, very briefly - It still was a disaster, _officially_ \- but the more the situation was examined the more it seemed to him an example of serendipity.

All the problems of the growing population and greed for resources of Proxima II potentially solved by the complete destruction of the planet's infrastructure, while it seemed certain Storm Mountain would be protected by its position within the star itself. Four years allowed sufficient time to complete the evacuation of those resources necessary to serve his needs and advance the interests of his expanding empire - Proxima II and its surplus population could be safely abandoned and forgotten, solving more problems than it created.

The military base of UniS, currently located on Proxima III, had been in the process of relocating outside the system in any case, even before Avon's pulse was fired, and full transfer was expected to be complete before it arrived... So why did he feel uneasy...?

* * *

**30 years earlier...**

The view from the newly-restored ruler of Proxima II's office was a breathtaking panorama across the vastness of the Kapital, and despite himself Roj Blake was impressed. With the office, if not its occupant.

"Drink?" Scarn offered. Blake declined.

"Well," he said. "It looks like I've achieved what I set out to do." He clasped the bracelet on his left wrist. "Now it's up to you."

"The Federation will come back," said Scarn.

"Try not to let them," Blake replied. "And I'll try to keep them too busy... Between us, we should give them a bit of a headache."

"I'm sure we will."

"Yes," said Blake, and stepped a little further away from the imposing figure of the Proximan ruler. "Got a lot to do. Time I returned to it."

"I thought perhaps I could say my goodbyes to all your people."

Blake eyed him for a long moment. "Vila sends his regards."

"And Jenna?"

"Jenna said her goodbyes and returned to the ship some time ago," said Blake.

"Have you?"

"I thought that was what I was doing right now," said Blake with faint amusement, eyes narrowed and voice quiet. Abruptly, he spoke into the bracelet. "Get ready to teleport, Vila..." he said briskly, and addressed himself to Scarn. "Don't worry, you won't be fighting alone any more... I promise, for as long as I'm out there... _I'll be watching_."

Scarn's eyes narrowed also, becoming practically invisible. "Your point is taken, Blake," he replied, the diplomatic mask slipping.

Someone else strode forward to stand next to Blake. "And if ever Blake is indisposed, or unavoidably detained, Scarn..." said Kerr Avon coldly, "Then _I_ will be watching." He smiled, and just before he and Blake were teleported out, he added, _"Count on it."_

* * *

**309**

_Blake_.

It was the return of Blake that had done it, or at least the return of someone referring to herself as Blake... Someone out there knew Scarn's weak points, or this one at least, and was set on exploiting that knowledge...

Just when he should be content, just on the cusp of UniS's expansion into the great, largely unexplored, mass of the galaxy, according to projections ripe with worlds to conquer and exploit, he felt vulnerable in a way he had not since regaining control of his homeworld from the Federation invaders all that time ago.

 _He_ had been here then, _Blake_ , seizing the initiative, and if rumour was to be believed, more than that, and now to all intents and purposes, here he was again. Or his proxy.

A daughter, previously unknown? Sources could not answer that question, and in many ways it was unimportant. Whoever this girl was, she had made some small but very shrewd attacks on the fringes of his operations, and come across something that at this point he would very much prefer to remain a secret. Scarn doubted the media on Proxima II, a troublesome estate not quite yet entirely under his control, would understand that his taking control of the drugs trade in the outer planets was entirely in their best interests, so that was best avoided...

Swift activation of a stored recording yielded a holographic image in the air ahead of him, and the shadowy, indistinct features of the androgynous Caster Baroon.

 _"Hey, guts, I mean guys..."_ said Baroon cheerily. _"Damn this cueing machine! Hey there...! Yeah, I mean you... You there trying to pretend I'm not talking to you... Oh, your wife or husband, delete as applicable, won't mind, I'm on your list, aren't I...? Both your lists...!"_

Scarn's fingers tapped impatiently, but he did not hurry the recording along - It was nearly there.

_"Well, enough of this banter... Have I got something for you today...? Of course, I wouldn't get out of bed for less than a fully-fledged threat to civilisation as we know it, my lovelies! Word is, and the word is sound with a capital soooouuuu... that an amplified pulse with the unfortunate effect of permanently kaputing all your power devices - Yes, including that one, madam, you know who you are... is on its relentless way straight toward every one of you there in the Proxima system... Goodbye to civilisation when it hits... Hope you know how to, um, well, do anything for yourself... Soon, you're all gonna be hunter-gatherers whether ya like it or not!  
_

_Oh, but I hear you cry... Does our valiant, revered President know about this...? And the answer is... You guessed it! I really wonder if he's taking all his responsibilities quite as seriously as you all deserve... Maybe, uh... Maybe it's time for something different, huh? One to ponder on..."_

Scarn switched the recording off at that point, and was surprised to find that, although the image of the peculiar individual who had become something of a minor thorn in his side flickered slightly, it did not vanish... In fact, Caster Baroon's eyes shifted to look at Scarn directly.

 _"Ho ho ho, fat boy...!"_ Barron cried, grinning. _"What the Abisian is up...?!"_

Scarn was about to call for assistance when he rethought that, and his hand moved away from the controls built into his chair. "What do you want?"

 _"From you...?"_ Baroon squealed. _"Well, ideally your immediate resignation and suicide! But I know how realpolitik works, babe, so we'll get there in little incremental steps, know what I'm sayin'?"_

"Maybe we could come to an arrangement," Scarn said with exaggerated calm. "Where are you? I'll come to you."

_"Well, right now I'm at- Oooohhh, why you... Clever, Erno, but not clever enough... Close, though, you nearly got me."_

"Well, thank you for narrowing down the possibilities when it comes to your accomplices... The list is now a great deal smaller."

 _"You're a real charmer, Ern baby, I always sensed that about you... But frankly, I just came here to deliver you a friendly warning... Don't trust her. Don't you trust her... I know you think you've got her under control, but she's getting ready to move, and when she does..._ _Oh, why am I bothering, you won't listen to little old me..."_

"Not at all, freak... You have my complete attention... My credulity, however..."

 _"Maybe if I put on one of your big butch black uniforms and one of those fetching caps - at a suitably jaunty angle, of course - you'd be more receptive... I know you like your men in uniform, Mister Presideeeeent..._ _No, seriously, she's a menace to you and to everything we hold dear..."_

"What am I supposed to-?"

 _"-And, frankly, it's a good thing you can't see what I'm holding right now, dear... Ciao!"_ With that, the shadowy image of Caster Baroon disappeared.

Scarn settled back in his chair. What to make of that...? At that moment, he felt tired and, though he would never speak of it to anyone, old... The chair whirred around again, facing him toward another display - "Report," he demanded again.

 _"The Presidium is assembled,"_ said another underling, in muted tones as if they were afraid they could be discovered at any moment. _"I have been able to access the agenda... Nothing obviously likely to be troublesome, but you never can entirely tell..."_

"Fine. Just keep me informed."

 _"Yes, s"_ -

-Scarn's chair shifted position again, this time further and leaving him oriented more or less the opposite way round from his original position. "Report," he said, voice quieter, a real interest in his voice as if this was the one he had been leaving for last out of a real sense of anticipation.

_"Sir... Yes, I- We were about to inform you... The boarding party has just embarked... All quiet so far. It's difficult to believe, I know, but it looks like those things we detected departing the ship might have contained the entire crew... Though there are just those faint signs we can't quite pinpoint..."_

"Yes, yes, yes..." Scarn fussed. "No sign of any automatic systems?"

_"That's the thing, sir... No systems of any sort except basic life support... The entire ship is deserted, apparently... Although, of course, the sweep is still in progress."_

"Get that ship under power as soon as possible... Bring it home."

_"Yes, sir..."_

"Scarn out."

He relaxed a little in his chair, satisfied that for now at least all was well. By some unexpected stroke of luck, the ship of his enemies had fallen into his hands... Out there, very far away, in deepest space, the Liberator was his.

* * *

The UniS squadron that now surrounded the dormant Liberator had come prepared, and their EVA teams were now coming to the end of a complicated and dangerous process. If the enemy ship could not be steered under its own power, the specialist vessel, crude and ugly next to the elegance of the Liberator, would simply bring it along like cargo.

The task complete, the UniS EVA teams returned to the airlocks... The Liberator was theirs.

* * *

Faal ran through the labyrinth that was the habitation section of the Liberator, his eyes able to function comparatively well in the low light, staying ahead of the teams of armed men sweeping across the ship. Buying himself time for... What? What could he do, alone...?

He did not even truly know why he was here.

He had left the message for Juni to place the device on his corpse, and expected it would fulfill its function of de-constituting his body, dispersing it to its constituent atoms. He had not expected it to... reanimate him. Resurrection, with all its disturbing implications, was not something his people were comfortable with at all, even though it was well within their capabilities to keep a single consciousness alive through all of time... If the will was there. Those who commissioned the Clonemasters had often had very different boundaries, as he had seen for himself...

 _Yes_ , he understood why it had happened, and who was responsible. That was why the feeling that suddenly intruded on his consciousness came as less of a surprise than it otherwise might have.

 _"I knew I would find you here."_ That voice, so much like his own...

The tall, lean figure stepped forward to block the narrow corridor ahead, and a slender arm raised to halt the UniS soldiers who came up behind him and started forward eagerly to apprehend Faal... "No," the tall figure said. "He's mine."

"Yours?" asked Faal, eyebrows arched - A rare emotional display for him.

"A figure of speech," said the other Clonemaster, the second of the only two in existence, stepping into the faint illumination of the Liberator's emergency lights. "Brother."

* * *

**18 years earlier...**

The homeworld of the Clonemasters was under siege. Somehow, and it was not entirely clear how, it became known that this was the day... The final day.

Today, the Andromedans would press home their attack and remove the last of the planetary defences, and seize one of the human race's greatest remaining assets. The cloned troops used earlier in the war, ethical or not, had allowed humanity time to regroup, and as they advanced toward the final destruction of their enemy the Andromedans had not forgotten that... To win this war, the Clonemasters would have to be removed - and that meant destroyed utterly.

Faal knew all this, and even as he hurried to his station he was preparing himself for the inevitable. Death was fascinating for him - how could it fail to be for someone who cheated it so routinely? - but now, faced with its inevitability, he understood why humans struggled against it so strenuously... He had more to do. He wanted more days. He knew it was wrong, and he would never share these unseemly feelings with anyone... He wanted more, and felt closer to anger than ever before in his long life at the prospect that it was all about to stop so abruptly.

Soon. Very soon now. Even here, deep within the planet, he could hear the neutronic bombardment, and feel the massive impact of the Andromedan's devastating arsenal as it dismantled their final defences...

He had been looking for him. He realised that afterwards, when he had had a chance to reason it out, when he had gotten over the shock of his batch-brother's escape, the shock that had hit him when he saw him appear ahead of him in the tunnel.

"Vuun..."

Faal's voice was nowhere near loud enough to carry over the noise, but it didn't need to be. His brother turned and, just for a moment they looked at each other, and then in the surging crowds, they were lost.

* * *

"How did you escape...?" Vuun inquired. "I knew you _had_ , I've known for years now, but I wondered."

"The Federation leader... Sleer. She ordered her people to find me before the end... They had means, and they didn't give me any choice."

"I thought it must have been something like that."

"How did _you_ escape?"

"At the last moment, there was a general amnesty for anyone willing to fight," said Vuun. "But I chose to escape instead." He smiled faintly, always more comfortable with emotion than the otherwise virtually identical Faal. "I had an opportunity, and I took it. Our race is too important to pass forever."

"Why are you here...? With..." Faal waved at the UniS troops dismissively. "With them."

"They have given me much, brother... But not as much as _we_ have to offer _them_... As soon as I knew for certain you had survived, I had to track you down."

"Of course. You need me."

Vuun nodded. "Two are needed, yes."

"That equipment is illegal," said Faal. "If you bring me to it, I will disable it permanently."

"You think _they_ will let you do that?"

"They will do as they must, no doubt... As will I."

"Faal, if only... You understand what this could mean...? Once I have fulfilled my obligation to them, they will allow me to recreate our race... Think of that. The resurrection of our race..."

Faal twitched a little as the word _resurrection_ was spoken, and he showed Vuun the Arcturan pearl that concealed the device that had enabled his own unwanted revival. "Yours?"

"Most would thank me for such a gift, brother."

"It was supposed to dispose of my body, to leave no trace that could be used."

"I did not want some chance event to snatch you away..." said Vuun. "To consign an intellect like yours to oblivion before it could come close to achieving its potential."

"That is not for you to decide."

"No," Vuun said, a little fiercely. "It is for _us_ to decide. And decide we will."

* * *

**Karstus**

"Blake!"

Turning round, startled, it quickly became clear to Blake that had not been the first time Juni had tried to get her attention. "Sorry... Are you all right?"

"Why do you keep asking me that?" Juni demanded. "I just need to talk to you, that's all."

In the dim light of the caves, Juni's complexion was as smooth and milky as it had been at Galaxy City - No sign of the angry red marks Blake knew were there, her skin still healing after her near escape from immolation at the hands of the mud primitives on TNDM-1939. It was difficult to believe she had escaped from that unfazed, even without Faal's death immediately after, but Blake saw no advantage in pressing the matter.

"Talk away..." she said, leading the way through the passages and down the set of slippery steps into one of the main caverns, hand-held device raised as its readings were gathered and collated. Juni hurried to keep up, and Blake sensed she was a little annoyed she wasn't getting her colleague's full attention.

"It's... Actually, Blake, change of plan... Just what _is_ it you're doing with that thing?"

"Taking readings."

"I can see that..." said Juni. "To what end?"

"Just something I think might be useful... I'm curious."

"Well, thanks for that informative answer, that's cleared everything up."

Feeling a little guilty, Blake turned to her. "I'm sorry, Juni."

"We haven't had a chance to talk about any of this, Blake... Not without... _Oh_ , and we still haven't."

Momentarily confused, Blake soon realised what Juni meant when she turned to see Avral approaching from the direction of the base and ascending the steps toward them. Turning to Juni, she silently mouthed _Sorry_...

Juni did not fail to miss the mix of feelings in Blake's reaction to Avral's approach, and nodded slightly. It would keep.

"Getting what you need?" Avral inquired, nodding at the device in Blake's hands. "The geologist's friend, they called that thing... Back before it became obsolete."

"We rebels never get the first pick when it comes to equipment," said Juni, before acceding to the non-verbal hints... "See you later, Blake."

"Yes," Blake replied as Juni descended the steps, trying her best to make it sound like a promise. Not for the first time, she regretted the distance that seemed to have sprung up between them, due to a lot of factors but perhaps mainly because of-

-Avral took the device, hand touching Blake's in the process, and peered at the readings. "Wouldn't have thought you were into this..."

"What?" Distracted, Blake found it a little difficult to take in the implied question.

"The study of Karstus and its _fascinating_ rock formations."

Blake smiled, that odd, slightly giddy smile - the one she hadn't known till very recently she was even capable of. "Just a thought I had, about another matter... You know one of those half-formed ideas...?"

"No." Avral remained stony-faced for a few moments before returning the smile. "Mine all come fully-formed."

"I envy that," said Blake. "Somehow I've been made a leader, and it seems that mostly it's about convincing others I know what I'm doing, when I can't even convince myself."

"Well, Juni has confidence in you, and she doesn't seem like someone who does that lightly... I can see how you could inspire that."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Of course..." Blake said quietly. "The worst thing about it... _well_ , it's not being able to talk like this... to anyone."

"Well," replied Avral, stepping closer, "It's a good thing you're not _my_ leader, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Blake sincerely. "It _is_ a _very_ good thing."

They had been moving closer, hesitantly, throughout the exchange, and now their hands brushed together, and neither was sure which of them took the decisive step. Whoever it was, they were quickly committed and their hands linked, and clasped tightly, just a moment before their bodies pressed together.

The first kiss was brief, and they pulled back a little to look at each other for a moment, then returned for a far longer one.

* * *

Del Grant looked up and nodded acknowledgment as Juni entered the old operations room, and got back to recalibrating the communications console. At a loose end, Juni proceeded to wander slowly around the perimeter of the rock-hewed chamber and brushed her hand lightly over one of the disused tarpaulin-covered work stations.

"Everything all right?" asked Grant, without looking up again.

Juni smiled, but not joyfully. A slight edge of bitterness crept in as she replied. "Define _all right_." She instantly regretted it - Her first instinct had been to like and trust Grant, and nothing he had done since had changed that.

He did not take it amiss, however. "Understood." A few moments later, he spoke again. "Did you find Blake?"

"Yes..." He had not asked, but she felt he was owed a little more than that. "I'm supposed to advise her, aren't I...? That's what advisors do... But..."

"Sometimes they don't take your advice."

Another long pause. "I was very sorry to hear about Avalon..." Juni ventured, uncertain how this would be received. "I know, that's strange, coming from me."

"From Servalan's daughter?" He still did not look up from his work.

"I'm not..." Juni stopped and thought about that for a moment. "Yes."

He did look up this time, and smiled sadly. "I suppose none of us is quite where we thought we would be by now."

"Or with the people we thought we would be with..." offered Juni, her thoughts far away.

* * *

**Abisian**

Caul woke shivering, in the dark, and found himself checking, reaching out to... _No_ , she wasn't there. Not since...

It all came back to him, and it was like experiencing it all over again, and again he checked off the poor decisions, the moments of hesitation, the moments when he should have spoken - said anything at all, where even the most badly-chosen words would have been better than nothing... _No_ , it was too late. Again he felt that sensation, like a lead weight lodged in his chest, and forced himself to meet Darvin's eyes.

"Wake up, son..." said Darvin, and grinned. "Wake up... Show a leg."

"I'm awake." Caul forced himself to rise off the makeshift bunk, and picked his way among the clutter. "Your turn?"

"Not yet, I'm afraid. Rissa's."

"Of course..." Caul rubbed his eyes, annoyed at himself for having so much difficulty retaining basic information such as their very simple guard-duty rota. What was wrong with him...?

"You look terrible... No offence."

 _Oh yes_ , Caul realised. He was tired... exhausted even. Functioning - just about - on less sleep than he had ever had in his relatively sheltered existence. " _You_ don't," he said.

"Ta very much," said Darvin. "Once a soldier..." Moving aside to make way as Rissa wordlessly moved past him and dropped down onto the bunk - there to fall asleep almost instantly - he paused and pursed his lips. "Come and have a look at something..." he said. "I want an opinion."

* * *

The computer console was makeshift, cobbled together from obsolete - and, one would have thought, incompatible - components. Tam Nivri fiddled with the controls, a look of concentration on his broad, flat features, before finally settling on a solution - He slammed his hand hard against the side of the machine, and his face brightened as it once again flickered into life.

"Show Caul what you showed me..." said Darvin, coming over to sit by Nivri in the corner of their shelter, the main office of some kind of sectional security post - The planet-sized junkyard probably had hundreds, if not thousands of them dotted across the surface and this one, so far, had not been discovered by the Children of Light. Nivri looked up with something like rueful respect as Caul joined them.

"Bright lad, that..." he said. "This lashup shouldn't work, but it does... after a fashion. Now..." His deceptively nimble fingers danced across the controls. "Let's just get back to this thing... It's such a pain in the... Every time it crashes you have to start all over again... There..."

"We've been busy while you've been dreaming of better days," Darvin explained. "I got curious, you see... This place is nowhere, or to be more precise the exact epicentre of nowhere... I mean, I'm sure there's a hell of a lot to salvage, yeah, but a lot of hassle to locate and extract it-"

"-That's when I thought," interrupted Nivri. "If they're here for something, we might as well know what it is... So I got in, just before all my access codes were withdrawn, and I think I've... Yeah, there it is... They got right down to this, the moment they arrived... They had some of the data, so it won't take them long to find it, but the advantage for us..."

"It's closer," said Darvin. "Whatever this thing is, it's close to where we are now."

Caul sat back. "So we take it before they can. Or destroy it."

"You've been around Blake too long," said Darvin. " _Yeah_ , I think we should, don't you?"

"What does Rissa say?"

Darvin merely raised an eyebrow, and Caul nodded with a faint smile.

"It's slow, but it's getting there," said Nivri, peering at the download. "We'll have the information soon, unless they realise we're here."

"Don't even..." mused Darvin. "The words _rat_ and _trap_ spring to mind..." He moved over to a narrow window and peered through it to the wasteland outside. "How far out are the guards?"

"They're deployed just the way you wanted them," said Nivri, walking across to join him. "Relax... Just don't relax _too_ much, eh?"

"No chance of that," said Darvin. He looked as if something outside had caught his eye, and after a few seconds turned away from the window. Looking at Nivri, eyes wide and... _haunted_ , he seemed reluctant to broach whatever was on his mind.

"What's wrong, mate...?" asked Nivri, and glanced outside, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

"Do you ever see things out there...? Hallucinations? Anything? Maybe some of the gases as the stuff out there breaks down..."

"I have no idea what you're on about, I'm afraid... What's wrong?"

Darvin looked at the window again, and a cold sweat broke out on his brow. There at the small port, a face. A familiar one. The skin smooth and light brown, the features composed, the eyes gently mocking... A girl of twenty-four he had known, long ago when _he_ wasn't much older than that.

 _"Tarna..."_ He had said that aloud, although he hadn't meant to, and Nivri looked bemused.

"What's a Tarna?"

"His wife," said Caul in a low voice, and stepped up close to Darvin. " _Are_ you all right, Darvin?"

"I will be..." Darvin kept his eyes fixed on the window, meeting the girl's gaze calmly now. "Whatever it takes."

Nivri returned to the computer. "All right, lads, we're on... The file's coming in now." They both joined him, and looked slightly askance at the visual and text as they rolled across the screen. Darvin looked at both of them incredulously.

"Hang on," he said. "This is really what they're after...? Some old ship?"

"Earth Administration," Nivri reeled off as the information came up. "Cargo carrier originally, but a bit of a history in its later years... See that patched section there, that's not original... Oh gents, this one is _old_ old _old_..."

"No great surprise," said Darvin. "It ended up _here_."

"What's it called?" asked Caul, looking a little worried.

"Keep reading," said Nivri. "This thing's in pieces, the file that is... The ship's in pretty good nick it seems, all things considered... Apparently we used it for a while as a ship to surface vehicle, and it's only been sitting idle the last five years or so."

"I need to see the name," said Caul.

"You know something, don't you...?" Darvin turned to face him. "What do you know, Caul?"

"I don't _know_ ," he said, clearly a little rattled. "I've just... I've seen that design somewhere..."

"Got a name coming up now, lads," said Nivri. "Actually, that does ring one or two bells... But why would these religious nuts want that old bucket...? They've got loads of ships already, much better than this old thing..."

"Well?" said Darvin. "Don't keep us in suspense."

* * *

**Storm Mountain**

"There's our escort..."

Faal scarcely needed a commentary, but he did look up and observe the squadron of UniS pursuit ships fly across the field of view of the shuttle port, and then glanced over at his batch-brother.

"You think a show of force will intimidate me?"

"Not at all, brother," said Vuun. "No more than it would me."

"It would be futile, in any case... Soon, I will be gone, and you will have nothing to offer them... The generator needs two of us."

"It does."

"How do you intend to overcome this obstacle...?" Faal asked. "The energy from this device will only keep me alive for a short time... I am, as humans might say, a dead man walking."

" _Please_ , brother... You speak as though we were as mortal as they are... You know _better_."

"I see..."

Vuun turned to Faal, suddenly intense. "Help me activate the generator, and our first task will be to transfer you to a new body... A perfect copy of your own... albeit perhaps a little younger... Time has been a little less kind to you than I might have expected..."

"You truly believe I am motivated by such petty concerns as my own perpetuation?" Faal demanded. "Truly?!" The armed UniS troops in the shuttle with them looked over as he raised his voice, and trigger-fingers twitched. "I thought you knew me," said Faal, his voice lower. "Clearly not."

"There," said Vuun, his voice calm, as if choosing not to hear Faal's defiance. "We're approaching it now."

Despite himself, Faal watched with interest as the view changed... The shuttle's electronic force wall activated, obscuring and distorting the starfield in such a way that he knew it must be at a tremendously high setting... "Where are we going?" he asked, a little intrigued.

"Welcome, brother..." Vuun said, and Faal found his question answered as they approached and entered the red dwarf star, and the port was obscured by emergency shutters. "Welcome to Storm Mountain..."

"You still think you can persuade me...?"

"Not I, brother..." said Vuun quietly. "But you will come around... and soon... Or this time, you truly _will_ die."

* * *

**Abisian**

The terrain was very difficult, and they picked their way with care... Darvin, Rissa, Caul, Tam Nivri and Nivri's people all approached their destination with nerves on a knife-edge, expecting ambush from over one of the looming hills of garbage at any second.

"Coming up on it now, according to the inventory," said Nivri, and glanced back again to make sure all his people were in sight, except for the small rear-guard who would warn them at the first sign of anyone else moving up behind them.

"So, boss, how we going to destroy this thing...?" asked Rissa. "I was thinking, if there's still fuel, we set a timed delay and fire the thrusters while they're facing inward... That might do it."

"I don't even know if we're going to destroy it," said Darvin. "We'll see what we see when we see it."

Rissa looked a little sullen. "You always say that." She hung back to join Caul. "Caully... I feel like we don't talk so much... You know, the way we used to... A girl could get... I don't know... No, really, what's up?"

Caul looked like this really was the last thing he wanted to be facing, largely because it really was. "Nothing," he said. "I'm fine... Just tired."

"Yeah, hear you on that..." Rissa skipped as she walked, and grabbed his arm. "No, really, there's something off with us... I've known it for a while... I just can't-"

"-Rissa..." said Darvin. "The advance guard should have got there by now."

"Hear you, boss," Rissa called. _"We will speak more of this,"_ she said to Caul in a low voice, then grinned and squeezed his arm before letting it go. She ran ahead, and was soon lost from view.

Darvin fell into step alongside Caul. "You missing her?" he asked.

Caul didn't answer right away. "Blake?"

"Well, yeah. Blake... but not _just_ Blake..."

"Orac?"

"Don't worry, Rissa has no idea... At least, I don't think she does." He could see Caul was thinking carefully about how to respond, and regretted bringing it up at all. "Look, mate, I'm sorry-"

"-I got it wrong," said Caul. "I got it all wrong... I should-"

"-Here we are, lads!" Nivri called. Round the ridge we go, and you'll see it..."

When Caul saw the ship looming up above them, nestled in a landing zone carved from the surrounding landscape, he knew he had been right. This _was_ the ship he had believed it to be... Whatever reasons the Children of Light had for wanting it, he knew they must be prevented.

"The cradle of life..." mused Darvin. "That's what it means, you know... It's one of the ancient cities, one of the handful that survived the end of the First Calendar... It's where we all came from originally, that one... Good name."

"Spent most of its life as a prison transport," said Nivri. "A shame it had to end up here."

"London," said Rissa, getting the feel of the unfamiliar word.

* * *

**Karstus**

Blake woke and was fully alert in a moment, her heart thumping in an automatic response - but as soon as she realised she wasn't in immediate danger, it gradually returned to normal. Her hand had already shot out to discover she was alone on the bed, and the new arrival had not failed to notice that.

The tall older woman, with long handsome features and greying fair hair, looked down at her with contained amusement. She eyed the empty space on the bed, the one that had clearly had an occupant very recently. "Hello," she said. "I'm Zee."

"Hello, Zee," said Blake.

"Sleep well?"

Blake shrugged, and the woman grinned.

* * *

They joined the others in the operations room, and Blake was relieved to see Avral was safe, standing near Juni and Grant. The new arrivals were armed, dressed in a variety of combat outfits, and clearly hard-bitten veterans. Not to be trifled with.

"They just got here," Grant said quietly.

"Were you expecting this?" Blake inquired in the same low voice, and Grant shook his head. Her eyes found Avral's, and read her concern.

"More trouble...?" Juni mused wearily, and Blake touched her arm briefly.

They all went quiet, as a few more people entered, and Blake's attention was immediately drawn to the slender dark-haired woman in their midst - The reverse was also true, and soon they were standing opposite each other.

"You are Blake...?" Blake sensed that the older woman's question was more for the benefit of the others. Turning, she found that Del Grant, his face grim, would be no help in this particular situation.

"You must be Avalon."

Barr smiled faintly. "I suppose I must be."

"Aren't you going to greet your daughter...?" asked Grant.

"Avral," said Barr, without looking at her. At that moment, she laughed, unable to keep it up. "Oh, Del... They know! They all know!"

Grant breathed out slowly. "I see."

"No," said Zee, and Grant's eyes snapped over to meet those of Barr's companion. "I don't think you really do."

"The time has come, Del Grant..." Barr mused. "And Blake... Blake of the Liberator, Blake that I've been hearing so much about this last couple of months..."

"The time for what?" asked Juni, and Barr looked at her for the first time, assessingly.

"You had to ask," said Avral quietly.

"First of all," said Barr, turning to talk to Grant once more, "I want to thank you... If it wasn't for you, Del, I would still be bounty-hunting on some backwater... or dead. I really mean it when I say _thank you_."

"Get to the point," said Grant, and flinched as Zee brought her gun out of its holster in an instant and pointed it at him. Blake, Juni and Avral also found themselves with weapons trained on them.

Barr moved in close to Grant, and he avoided her gaze as she reached over to trace a finger lightly across his face, knowing perfectly well the pain her mere presence caused him. "It's time, Del... for all of us to get what we deserve."


	12. Chapter 12

**Proxima II**

Dr Lenta Guld put off the decision as long as she could... Even though the reports coming in pointed to no other recourse, she resisted. She waited. She received more reports, more and more, every one of them narrowing her options, till only one was left... Well, two... But she had spent the first thirty years of her life running, and she would never go back to that.

No.

There was only one way now. She immediately went about erasing all the drives, the ones seized in the raid on Del Grant's former headquarters, in the full knowledge that, now, there was no going back.

* * *

The walk to the First Lady's suite of rooms was long, slow and, to Dr Guld's mind, funereal. How often had she taken this route without thinking, without for one moment stopping to savour the plushness of this environment, the comfort that would have been unimaginable to her till the last few years... Not a trace of the humidity that plagued the ordinary citizens of the Kapital below, or the harsh conditions endured by the miners on the outer planets. Luxury she only now began to appreciate, now it was probably too late.

She was one of a privileged few who would be allowed in on sight, possibly the only one around whom the guards would actually relax, as much as they ever could... That would give her time, hopefully enough time to get Lady Shilena Mekatir Scarn to listen to the entirety of what she had to say... Before she knew it, she was at the doors, and the doors were opening, and... There.

It was now. It had to be.

"Ah, Dr Guld..." Lady Shilena began. "There a thing I've been-"

"-Your pardon, my lady..." Guld interrupted - It was enough to make Lady Shilena's head turn sharply. Few people interrupted her mid-sentence, and fewer still went away without cause to regret it.

"Dr Guld..."

"No, my lady. I'm not actually Dr anything... But my name really is Lenta... You can just call me that, perhaps."

Lady Shilena sat. "What are you saying?" Their voices were low, and none of the guards had yet registered anything was out of the ordinary, and Lenta took a breath and tried to slow her pounding heart.

"I have something very important to tell you, Lady Shilena... At the end of it, I may very well find myself scheduled for one of theose executions we don't have, but I must. Hear me out, please, and then do what you will."

Lady Shilena's hawk-like face was expressionless, the eyes cold. "Go on."

"Indulge me, for a moment..." Lenta went to Lady Shilena's personal work station and activated it before starting to tap rapidly at the keys.

"Don't I always...?" The First Lady inquired, her tone harboring a hint of danger.

"There is someone who can explain the situation - at least partly - somewhat better than I can... Please, just a moment longer... _There_..."

"What-?" Lady Shilena stopped as a holographic image appeared above her projector, a face at once familiar and still strange - Long, half-hidden in shadow. The face broke out into a grin.

 _"Hi ho!"_ Caster Baroon exclaimed, and Lady Shilena glanced over at her aide - perhaps former aide, depending on the outcome of this particular meeting - questioningly, and Lenta indicated she should watch the projection.

 _"Listen very carefully,"_ said Caster Baroon solemnly, then the peculiar face broke out into a grin. _"I shall say this... only once, baby!"_

* * *

**Avalon's ship**

"You can say it if you want," said Grant, sitting hunched forward on the stark bench-seat, fingers clasped together in front of him - just as he had been for what must be a couple of hours now. Remarkably, at least Blake thought it was remarkable, he actually looked up at her for the first time since they had been placed together in this cramped space.

She let him hang there for a few moments, continuing her slow circuit of the ship's brig - It had to be slow, as there wasn't a lot of ground to cover. "I would," she said at last. "If I knew what you expected me to say."

"I messed up," he replied. "I know it. So do you."

"Who hasn't?"

"I messed up in a very special way..." Grant went on. "I placed my trust in someone who repeatedly showed me, _told_ me even, that she can't and shouldn't be trusted... I did it anyway... Just because..."

"Avalon's final plan." Blake walked between him and the single light-source, and the timing seemed appropriate as the light vanished from his eyes.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I didn't have to go along with it... I could have just agreed till the moment she... died, and then... got out of there, taken Avral and just got out of there... Gone somewhere safe, or as safe as anywhere can ever be. It's only now I realise, I should have been the kind of friend she needed me to be, not the kind she _demanded_... I should have protected the only thing of real value she left behind. Let everything else go to hell."

Blake stopped pacing. "Avral doesn't need to be protected," she said gently. "And she's not a _thing_."

"Did you feel that?" he asked, responding to the slight trembling in the hull. "Engine burn."

"Yes." She felt the hard bulkhead and after a few seconds the faint tremor in the cold metal ceased. "This ship's old."

"But serviceable," said Grant.

"That's quite a few course-corrections so far," said Blake.

"Tells a story," Grant replied. "Not that it's much use to us, stuck in here."

"Are the others in a cell like this, do you think...?"

"Juni and Avral will be, there's another one like this on the opposite side."

"The others, your other people, they didn't need much persuasion to join _her_."

"Good... I would have told them to, anyway... In any case, they thought they were with her already."

"But Avalon... isn't actually Avalon..."

"As far as they're concerned, she's the same person she's always been. They weren't here when..." He tailed off.

"High turnover?" Blake asked.

"It's dangerous, what we do." He thought for a moment. " _No_ , I'm glad they went along with it, I don't want any more of them to die, not for me... Their loyalty was always to Avalon... I had no illusions about that. And Barr is the only Avalon most of them have known."

"So all these years, you've been running Avalon's movement, letting everyone think Barr was the real leader..."

"She was, it seems. Or at least has been for a while." He closed his eyes and sighed. "I lost focus."

"I'm afraid I could tell you quite a lot about what she's been getting up to," said Blake. "It didn't make sense till I came here and Avral showed me her mother's grave..."

"I know she's not a _thing_ ," Grant said, his tone changing as abruptly as the subject. "But I'll never stop wanting to protect her... Accept that, Blake." He looked at her with a hint of warning in his eyes, and she held his gaze. "But I'm glad she found a little bit of happiness while she could... It's not an easy thing to come by."

Blake seemed about to reply a few times in the long pause that ensued, but finally decided just to join him on the bench-seat. "I used to think it was impossible," she said at last. "And I wasn't expecting it."

"It's not impossible," Grant replied. "But it's seldom convenient."

* * *

"Do you mind if I sleep?" Avral inquired casually, and Juni turned to look at her. "Just a couple of hours, then _I'll_ stand over there and _you_ can have the seat."

"You can sleep...?" Juni asked, looking her slightly askance. "With all that's happening?"

"For _me_ , this has always been happening," said Avral, and when Juni waved her hand a little in a gesture that seemed to say _Go ahead_ she lay down. "I can sleep, yes. I've been a soldier since I was fifteen."

"I've come to it late, comparatively," said Juni. "Or not so late, depending on how you think about it..."

" _Or_ we could talk," said Avral ruefully, sitting up, but she smiled faintly to suggest that was actually fine with her. "You're _really_ Servalan's daughter...?" she asked, as if it was a question she had been desperate to ask for a while.

"No," said Juni. "At least, she never adopted me or anything, not formally... She just... found me, and seemed to like having me around... It's funny, the way everyone talks about her, I never saw all that. To me..."

"She had my mother tortured, and would certainly have killed her if Roj Blake hadn't stopped her." Avral said that matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry about that," said Juni, detached and a little wary.

"Don't be, it's not your fault." Avral shrugged. "In any case, I've no doubt there are people out there who hate Avalon for similar reasons... Even those who try to do what's right end up harming someone."

"There's truth in that," said Juni.

"A few days ago," said Avral, "I murdered one of my best friends... Throttled him..." She smiled bleakly. "He was a big man, you wouldn't think I was strong enough, but I was."

"I'm guessing he wasn't really your friend, if you did that to him."

Avral looked up at Juni then, eyes glistening. "He _thought_ he was... I'm certain he thought he was... But I was so angry, I..." She took a breath. "He betrayed us, and he betrayed himself... And now he's dead. _Walar_... His name was Walar."

"Where's your mother taking us, do you think...?" Juni wondered, moving slowly around the perimeter of the cell again.

"She's not my mother," said Avral.

"Yes, of course, I'm sorry..." Juni looked appalled at her own careless words.

Avral smiled, properly. "I've done that a few times... But then Barr reminds me... She's not Avalon, and never can be... And that's why we'll beat her."

* * *

**Storm Mountain**

"Not quite what you expected?"

Faal nodded slightly in response to Vuun's inquiry as they walked through the stark corridors of Storm Mountain's main habitation ring - He thought he knew what to expect of environments associated with Scarn - opulent and gaudy, tasteless to a fault. This, perhaps, was what ultimately lay behind the public show - the central purpose of UniS itself. The heart of Scarn's empire.

"The energy cost must be considerable," said Faal. "To maintain life inside a star."

"Proxima Centauri itself provides the energy, brother," Vuun replied. "Storm Mountain is self-sufficient. In any case, that is not what we are here to discuss. The-"

"-Why do you persist in calling me that?"

"It amuses me... We are after all practically identical."

"Genetically, yes."

"Though you still have no sense of humour."

"As you have no sense of ethical responsibility." Faal stopped and turned to Vuun sharply. "I assume you have used your own capacity to produce a clone."

"I know _you_ have," said Vuun. "Interesting choice. _My_ choice was born of necessity... Before I left our homeworld, I took possession of some useful genetic material, and when the time came I opted to create a companion formidable enough to offer me some protection. A _body guard_ , I believe is the human term."

"And where is this... bodyguard?"

"We parted company, once he had served his purpose."

"You mean, once you lost control of him... If you ever had such control in the first place."

"Careful, brother," said Vuun.

"Always," said Faal, deigning to resume their walk. "In any case, I will be gone soon, and with me all further prospects for your obscene experiments."

"The recovery of our race from extinction..." intoned Vuun. "You call that obscene..."

"Perhaps our time has passed," suggested Faal. "With my imminent dissolution, our extinction becomes inevitable." He turned his head briefly. "I have come to terms with that... I may even welcome it."

"I will save you, brother..." Vuun shook his head, a faint smile on his face. "In every sense."

* * *

 _"This is him."_ That was a statement, not a question and Vuun left it unanswered. Faal locked eyes with President Scarn, and instantly noticed that the stout figure was not corporeally present in the reception chamber - He was rather an immensely high-resolution holographic image, detectible only by the subtlest glitches, particularly in motion. Most people stood a chance of being fooled.

"President Scarn," Faal acknowledged impassively.

"Has he agreed yet?" Although Scarn's piggy eyes were directed at Faal, the question was addressed to Vuun.

"Not yet."

"You're with _Blake_." That was said to Faal.

"Not currently," Faal replied casually.

Scarn's face creased in an approximation of a smile. "Good... Very nice, I like that. You've got nerve. Don't lose it, not entirely." To Vuun: "So, they think he's dead."

"They do."

"No one to miss him..." Scarn mused. " _Or_ , if they were to find out, might that bring them to us...? So many possibilities."

"I think you overestimate their loyalty," said Faal. "I was with the woman calling herself Blake due to brief mutual advantage... She and her followers mean nothing to me... And I mean as little to them... How could I? They're humans. So threatening me would avail you nothing also."

"I suppose threats are no good."

"Your supposition is sound, President Scarn."

Scarn gave a brief, hacking laugh. "I almost like you, you know... That's rare. Very rare." To Vuun: "Show him... Show him everything... Then see what he says."

Vuun nodded in response, and Faal's eyes briefly flickered over to him - If he was honest, their assurance worried him slightly.

* * *

**Abisian**

"A lot of ghosts here..." Tam Nivri mused, as he and Darvin explored the corridors of the former prison transport ship _London_. It was said casually, but made Darvin turn to stare at him.

"What do you mean by that?"

Nivri found himself a little disturbed by the unexpected intensity of Darvin's reaction, and backed off a little. "Nothing... Just... A lot of ghosts, that's what I _mean_. A lot of history here... Just a bit spooky, is all. Don't ya think?" Reassured as Darvin seemed to accept that, he continued. "You know this ship once carried Blake... _The_ Blake."

Darvin nodded. "I did know that."

If any residual awkwardness lingered, Rissa and Caul rescued them, hurrying to catch up with them at a junction. "Boss!" Rissa began. "We can sink this crate, and we can do it easily... I know just the way... Boss...? Darvin!"

Darvin had been staring absently down the gloomy corridor and into the shadows at the end, but now his head snapped round to look at her. "Yeah."

"I know when you're not listening to me, Darvin... We're a team, right...? We're still a team?"

"Always."

"You're making me wonder."

"Just tell me," he said, irritated - at himself, not her, but she wouldn't realise that. "What did you find?"

"It's just like I said, boss..." said Rissa excitedly. "There's enough juice left, plenty in fact... We can blow this thing up good and proper-"

"-Could we fly it?"

Rissa's jaw dropped, and Caul looked bemused as well. "You never said anything about flying her," she said. She looked at Caul, who shrugged. "Anyway, you're the pilot. Judge for yourself."

"I thought we were relying on the Liberator to pick us up," said Caul. "Trying to take off in this thing will be a risk."

"Risk sounds all right to me," said Nivri. "Under the circumstances. If you really think you can get us off here."

"I'm just going over our options," said Darvin, apparently unaware Nivri had spoken. "The Liberator may never come, and stealing this thing from under the Children of Light's noses _has_ a certain appeal."

"It does at that," said Rissa with a smile. "Well, we're at war, you the boss, _boss_... Your call, make it quick."

Darvin was staring down into the shadows at the end of the corridor once again, and this time he was certain they moved. "You're right," he said to Nivri. "There _are_ ghosts here."

* * *

**Avalon's ship**

Zee smiled, the secretive smile she reserved for her partner, as she turned away from the console on the flight-deck and looked up. "On their way."

Barr smiled back, and laid a hand on Zee's shoulder. "That'll be one debt repayed. How long till the rendezvous?"

Zee checked the navigation computer, and confirmed her readings with the helmsman. "We'll meet them about halfway through the morning watch... You going to tell our guests what awaits them?"

"I really don't know," said Barr. "I'm thinking we'll probably leave it as a surprise, for old time's sake."

"Well," Zee replied, "It always used to work for us... Don't let the animals know they're in the slaughterhouse, that's what they used to say... Makes them more docile."

"Del Grant might be many things," mused Barr. "But docile is not one of them."

* * *

Barr went to visit the prisoners, although she wasn't entirely sure why. The doors on both cells, opposite each other at either side of the narrow access corridor, opened, and instantly the electronic force shield kicked in, detectable by the faint buzzing sound and the tangible charge in the air on either side of it. All the prisoners were familiar enough with the principle of the barrier not to go too near, so Barr was denied the amusing spectacle of one of them being stunned by contact with it.

They did go as near as was safe to, however, and all looked past Barr to reassure themselves the other pair were present and safe in the opposite cell. "Everyone sit tight," said Grant calmly. "This will be over soon."

"How right you are, Del..." Barr responded, amused, and blocked his view of Juni and Avral in their cell. "How right you are."

"We're gonna have a reckoning, the two of us..." Grant said in a very low voice. "You know it's coming."

"Oh, Del..." Barr mocked. "Could you really kill someone with _this face_...?" That face, so close to that of Avalon, settled into a sneer of contempt.

"Let me out of here, and you'll find out," said Grant coldly, murderous fury just under the surface.

"Where are we headed?" Blake demanded, partly as a genuine question but mostly to spare Grant if at all possible. Barr turned her head slightly to regard the cell's other occupant.

"Blake...!" Barr said brightly, happy at the prospect of a new victim to torment. "The mysterious Blake... If that really is your name... We haven't got to know each other yet... And I'm afraid we never will. Unfortunate, but time is pressing and I have somewhere to be once I've dropped you off..."

"Oh, really...?" Blake looked downcast. "I do like going to new places."

Barr had a hint of regret on her face as she considered her reply. "Yes, you're a very interesting one, aren't you...? Had we more time..."

"Urgent appointment?" Grant inquired.

"Yes, Del," said Barr. "I'm going to do what you couldn't... What Avalon couldn't... What Blake _never_ could..." She moved back from the doorway, and they saw that Juni and Avral were listening closely. "I'm going to bring down the Proximans... Restore the rule of the Presidium... Unified Systems as it was originally meant to be, with Avalon at its head... Aren't you pleased about that?"

"You're not _Avalon_ ," said Avral, her voice only just loud enough to be heard. Barr looked pleased at the sound of the voice, and seemed to savour the moment before turning round to view the other cell.

"Leave her alone!" said Grant, and was ignored.

"Avral..." Barr mused, with a cruel smile. "Daughter mine..."

"You're going to die," said Avral. "Very soon."

"So are you, sweet girl," said Barr. "And unfortunately I won't be there to see it, but I'll be thinking of you."

"In case you're a little deaf," said Juni, "I'll say it too... Leave her alone."

"You've done well for yourself, haven't you, beautiful...?" Barr regarded Juni for the first time, another victim to work on. "Considering the lack of moral compass... Oh, I'm not criticizing, I'm the same... _Yes_ , I know who you are... I'm a great admirerer of your late... benefactor...? I feel we might have got on rather well, before she lost her edge."

"You should be glad you never gave her cause to notice you," said Juni.

"Actually, Galaxy City to this in the space of a few months, maybe you're not doing so well..." Barr stepped close to the force shield, close enough to feel the charge in the air. "How the mighty fall..." She stepped back, and turned away. "How the rich fall, anyway." She cast a glance at Grant and Blake. "Perhaps the company you keep... Just a thought."

"You're _done_ now," said Grant. "Leave us."

Barr moved in close, a look of barely-contained fierce anger on her face. "I'm just getting started," she said. "Nine years of my life, spent serving you... Well, I was doing that for a reason, Del... I had a plan, and now you're going to see the fruits of my labour... A whole new order... _Soon_ , a merc, born in the dirt, is going to rule this galaxy, and it's not going to be Del Grant."

"You honestly think that was ever what I was aiming for? Or do you think we're all like you...? Everyone just like Barr..." Grant smiled faintly. "That would explain a lot about you."

"I'll remember that look, Del... I'll remember it for a long time... Then, one day, I'll forget it, and you."

Barr turned on her heel and walked away, soon disappearing fom their limited view of the corridor. "Everyone all right...?" asked Blake, unsure how long they would keep their view of the other cell.

"Fine," said Juni laconically, with a slight wave. Avral stepped close to the buzzing shield, and didn't speak - She and Blake just looked at each other across the corridor. Blake offered a faint smile, and after a few moments it was returned.

"We're going to get out of here soon," Blake assured them out loud. To herself, once she had turned back toward the interior of the cell, she added, "One way or another."

* * *

The ship was sturdy and compact, muted in colour, worn enough to suggest its decades of service. Nothing visibly suggested its function or status, but the signals broadcast on a variety of wavelengths almost literally screamed both - The vessel's neutrality was sacrosanct even in these difficult times for spacefarers. The worst pirates would hesitate before attacking a hospital ship.

It closed on a very precise heading for its rendezvous.

* * *

"I've seen something like this before..." Zee mused. She picked up one of the captured weapons and trained the gun, being careful to keep her fingers away from anything that might be a firing mechanism.

"I was thinking the same thing," said Barr, having just entered the otherwise unoccupied crewroom. She picked up the other such gun, ignoring the weapons owned by Grant and Avral. It was the ones belonging to Blake and Juni that had captured their attention. "Who'd have thought...?"

"If we'd known, all those years ago, we had one of Blake's people... The Federation would have given us far more for him than _they_ did..." Zee smiled at the thought of Vila Restal - It may have partly been the pain medication they gave him, but his gullibility had amused her... She wondered what exactly it had been about herself and Barr that he had taken to, and questioned if two male bounty hunters would so easily have gained his trust.

Barr returned the gun to the box on one of the mess tables. "Ah, but you're forgetting, at that point the Federation had all but collapsed... We weren't to know it would recover... At least for a while."

"True... If we could see the future, I suppose we'd all be rich."

"We _are_ rich, my dear."

"We'd all be considerably more rich, then."

Barr smiled secretively. "We will be."

* * *

**Abisian**

"All right," said Darvin, surveying the dark corners of one of _London_ 's storage holds. "I'm alone... Come out and talk if you want." For a while, he entertained the notion that there really was nothing there, that he _really_ was just going crazy, but then... There she was. "Tarna..." he said quietly.

 _"Stev..."_ The girl was a shadow at first, but as she emerged from the other shadows her features started to become distinct.

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing."

That made him laugh slightly. "Oh, all right... You're just here to finally send me over the edge, is that it...?"

"I'm not trying to send you anywhere, husband... Not trying to make you go anywhere, do anything... Anything that you don't already want to."

"Stop it."

Her head tilted a little to the side, something else that had changed from endearing to deeply irritating during the year and a half they had lived together. "Stop what?"

"The cryptic statements... The portentous..."

He never got to finish whatever he was going to say, as _Tarna_ offered a warning. "Careful, Stev... I just came here to say that... I can't stay long. _He_ 's here."

"Huh...? Who's here?"

" _The one_. He's still here, after all this time... That's why this ship is so valuable. They'll do anything to take it from you, Stev... Don't let them."

"Just tell me one thing, one thing only..." Darvin stepped forward. "Are you real...?"

Catching the light, _Tarna_ 's eyes shone, and she smiled. "One way to find out..."

"Yeah..." he said. "I suppose..." He stepped forward again, and hesitantly at first started to hold out his hand...

The sound was faint, hardly audible at all, but Darvin's hearing was good, and his head snapped round to catch whoever it was making their way out of the hatch... and stopped Caul in his tracks. Another slight movement of his head told him that _Tarna_ was no longer there. "How long have you been there...?" he asked. "Long enough," he said, supplying his own answer.

Caul let go of the hatch and moved back towards Darvin, and shrugged. "A while."

"So, what then...?" Darvin rubbed his eyes, suddenly aware of just how tired he was. "You going to tell the others?"

"What would I tell them?"

"Out of curiosity, could you see her...?" Darvin shook his head, knowing the answer and wishing he could withdraw the question.

"Is that a real question...?" asked Caul. "I... can't always tell."

"Rissa _believes_ in _me_ ," said Darvin. "I know that sounds stupid, but there's things you don't know about... Not yet. If she found out... about this, she'd... I don't know... _Actually_ , she'd probably believe me, and that would be..." He took a breath and started again. "Look, I know this looks-"

"-I'm not going to tell Rissa."

"All right... What _are_ you going to do?"

"What I usually do, I suppose," said Caul, suddenly sounding bitter. "Nothing."

"You think I'm going mad?"

There was a long pause before Caul answered. "I don't think anything. I try not to, anyway."

"Sounds like we both have troubles, my friend... How about we lend each other a hand...?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, you give me what I need... Basically, don't tell the others they're relying on a man who talks to his long-dead wife... And I'll see what I can do to help you out just when you need it most... Deal?"

There was a slight, almost imperceptible, movement of Caul's head that might just have been a nod.

* * *

"How are the secondary and tertiary power banks...?" Rissa called over her shoulder, and Tam Nivri spent a few moments perusing the unfamilar instruments of _London_ 's flight-deck. "Hurry up!" she added.

"Give's a chance! I've never crewed a ship before... Yeah... All right, it's looking... Not great, put it this way, but I think we could possibly make this work..."

"Possibly?" Rissa demanded. "We're going to need more than that."

"All right," said Nivri. "I know it's risky... If we drain them and put everything into the main power banks-"

"-Like every flight school tells you not to...?"

"I dare say."

She shrugged. "Why not...? I don't know about you, but I've broken every other rule I ever signed up to..." She smiled secretively. "Except one."

In the event that Nivri expected to be told what the exception was, he was to be dissapointed - Rissa leaned over and used the intercom, trusting that it worked. "Darvin, finish whatever you're doing, and get up here... We need you."

* * *

The outlying sentries posted by Nivri on the approaches to the ship were not prepared for what came for them - Elite wariors of the Children of Light advanced silently, veteran skirmishers used to moving quickly and quietly, and attacking with devastating efficiency. One by one, Nivri's early-warning system was dismantled, and the main force started to move in, stealth now less important.

Soon, _London_ was surrounded, and the Children of Light closed in on foot, by land vehicle, accompanied by their armed drones in the air, their line of sight - and of fire - marked out by thin red laser beams. Nivri's terrified people, ill-suited for war, fell back in disarray aboard the former prison ship and sealed all the hatches...

The next stage of their defences would hold... for now. It had to.

* * *

"Nicely timed...!" Rissa was buckling herself in and stabbing furiously at the co-pilot's controls as Darvin and Caul made their way onto the flight-deck. "Since we last talked, the situation has gone from dire to... Worse than that!"

"Talk to me," said Darvin, taking up the pilot's chair. "They're _here_ , I'm guessing..."

"My people are all aboard," said Nivri, turning from talking into the comms. "Well, most of them are... I don't think we can wait."

"Now or never..." Darvin started up the flight sequence. "Next stop... Anywhere but here."

* * *

The Children of Light's attacking force was still waiting for their artillery to be brought up when London took off, a couple of them - even bolder than the others - killed in the exhaust blasts. They were forced to watch, powerless, as the ancient vessel rose slowly in the air and finally climbed through the atmosphere in a spiral ascent pattern. The assault party communicated their failure, and awaited the consequences.

* * *

"Soon be back in space!" said Rissa to Caul, hanging on at the rear of the flight-deck, and he responded to her apparent glee with the wateriest of smiles. Darvin turned to her briefly before returning his attention to the pilot's console.

"And then," he said, "Our troubles really begin... again."

* * *

"The ship... The London, has just left orbit..." Miko stood back from the controls, but he didn't quite dare to turn to face Tylner - The side of his face with the gaping eye socket was the one nearest him, and even in his peripheral vision Miko could detect a slight stiffening of Tylner's wiry frame.

It seemed like an eternity until there was a response. "Interesting," said Tylner. He turned and walked away, and Miko was only barely able to hear the follow-up command. _"Don't lose it."_

* * *

**Storm Mountain**

"I never thought to see this again..."

"No, brother," Vuun replied. "There have been times I despaired of it also."

The two of them gazed up at it, the gleaming, faintly green-tinged sphere hanging in the centre of the roughly spherical chamber, without visible means of support, some twenty feet in diameter and thirty or so feet above them. As they watched it revolved slowly, somehow in all dimensions simultaneously. Mysterious patterns formed in its shiny surface, patterns not accountable to reflections... Something, some substance, coursed within the huge object.

"Where did you obtain the catalyst?" Faal inquired, though he believed he already knew the answer.

"An adequate supply was found on a remote world..." said Vuun. "It was already mined purely for its waste elements, one of which has a powerful narcotic effect. An agreement was reached to acquire what we needed... under cover, as it were."

"TNDM-1939," said Faal, somewhat startling Vuun. "I've been there."

"Contact was lost with our partners in the enterprise..."

"They knew what they were building for you?" Faal chose to change the subject, gesturing up at the floating sphere.

"Only in principle," said Vuun. "And then, only some of them. Only Scarn, and his advisor, Brintun, knew it all... Teams of different specialists were called in, as and when required, and performed each stage to my precise specifications."

"And of course you had all the required material..." Faal looked at Vuun with something like distaste, with a hint of sadness that someone once held in high regard could do this.

"It was provided."

"Meaning?"

"All UniS military personnel were donors, with or without their knowledge... Appropriate candidates were chosen for development."

"And you expect me to help." It was a statement, not a question.

"It's different, isn't it, brother...? Now you're actually standing here... Now the choice is immediate, and real... Not some abstract..."

Vuun moved closer, and spoke quietly in the knowledge that they were being monitored. "Scarn knows only a fraction of what this can do... Once we have met his paltry requirements... A few tens of thousands of soldiers, memories and skills intact, will subordinated to him... Once that is done, we can proceed with our real work."

"It is... different."

"The return of the Clone Masters, Faal... Think on it. Think."

"If I cooperate."

"Yes."

"And if I choose not to... Choose to die, and take all of what you have just described into the darkness with me..."

Vuun's face became cold. "I would not choose to let you."

* * *

Scarn, esconsed in his survival chamber, tersely allowed the communication to interrupt his monitoring of the two Clone Masters. "What...? I told you, no interruptions!"

_"Yes, sir... I... You needed to be informed at once..."_

"Informed of what...?"

 _"Sir..."_ The voice was hesitant. _" Something is happening on Proxima II."_

* * *

**Avalon's ship**

_"He's getting restless,"_ Dannen said, voice crackling over the slightly distorted comm-link. Barr knew this conversation would have to be concluded in a hurry, and it made her even sharper than usual.

"So am I," she said tartly. "Perhaps Delegate Joban is confused - he is, after all, not a young man... Confused as to just _who_ needs _who_ the most..."

 _"I know he's old, but don't underestimate him..."_ said Dannen. _"Don't underestimate any of them... Scarn's greatest trick has been to divide them and keep them divided, but that strategy has started to fall apart, and the more they find out... If, for example, they were to discover-"_

"They won't, will they...?" Barr's eyes narrowed. "Unless someone tells them."

Dannen picked up where he had left off. _"You must remember, Scarn has been able to disregard the outer worlds as anything other than a source of tribute for a long time now... But many of them have been building up their forces, and with a unified, or near-unified, Presidium, they'll be a major power in their own right-"_

"I know. That _is_ rather the point, isn't it...? That's why we want them."

_"Just don't take them for granted, that's all... We're not quite secure yet."_

"I take nothing for granted," Barr replied.

There was a pause. _"Good,"_ was Dannen's - and the conversation's, final word before the link was cut off. Barr immediately rose from her chair and left the tiny cabin.

* * *

_"Force shields to maximum..."_

"Good..." said Zee, presiding over the personnel on the flight-deck. "Steady... Stay sharp." She looked round as Barr came in and stood next to her. "You sure we're in this much of a hurry...?"

"I think our people can handle a simple navigational hazard like this..." said Barr, staring at the viewer. "So that's what a neutronic storm looks like."

The viewer just showed the massive gas giant slowly growing larger to the right - The neutronic storm, hazardous though it undoubtedly was, was quite invisible to the eye. "I know it saves us a little time, this maneuver, but is it really worth it?"

Barr looked at Zee with a faint smile. "Since when were you jumpy?"

"Just a feeling."

Barr frowned, amused but reluctant to dismiss her friend's instincts out of hand. "Just make sure we keep an eye on the scopes while the scanners are down... We'll be fine."

"As you wish."

Barr laid a hand on Zee's shoulder for a moment. "This is it for us... The most critical moment. That's why you're nervous."

Zee turned to look at her. "For us...? Or for you?"

"Where has this come from?"

Zee was about to answer when one of the flight-deck personnel interrupted. _"Sighting...!"_

"What is it?" Zee moved over to the young woman at the console, and leaned over behind her.

"Too early to say... But I think-"

 _"Something coming!"_ shouted someone else, just a moment before the impact slammed both Zee and Barr to the floor - Even though they had the benefit of chairs, the flight-deck personnel were badly shaken.

"Three ships...! No - four!" said the young woman at the scope, and Zee and Barr staggered over to her.

 _"Shipwide systems malfunctions!"_ said another crewman. _"Damage reports coming in...!"_

"Get everyone we can spare to the brig," said Barr, with a glance at Zee. "Just in case." She took out her sidearm. "In fact, I'll check them myself... Can you handle things here?" Without waiting for an answer, she left the flight-deck.

"Who is it...?!" demanded Zee. "Who knows we're here...?" She thought again. "Just pirates, I suppose... _Clever_ pirates."

"Uh... Negative, ma'am...! Unified Systems transponders detected, just for a moment while the scanners briefly kicked in!"

"UniS...?" Zee pushed hair away from her face as she moved over to stand by the crewman. "Why here...? And why now?"

* * *

"There it was..." said Grant, leaning forward and then getting to his feet, legs stiff. "Did you see that?"

"I saw it..." said Blake, hurrying over to the electronic shield blocking the doorway. "What did I just see?"

"A disruption... A definite loss of integrity, just for a moment..." The lights flickered and came back again as the life support system backups kicked in. Grant held out his hand gingerly, and was about to touch the barrier till Blake snatched his hand away from it.

"What are you doing?"

"If it's weak enough, I should be able to shove my hand through it... If I don't black out from the pain first."

"You can tell where the weak point is?"

A pause. "No."

"Don't you dare, Del!" Avral shouted from the opposite cell, from which she and Juni watched.

"Even if it kills _me_ , Blake can get out and free the two of you..." He turned to Blake. "Are you really going to stop me?"

"It's a good idea," said Blake. "With just one minor adjustment."

She turned to stare at the barrier for a moment, and before Grant realised what she intended, thrust her left hand through what she decided was the weakest point. Trembling, gritting her teeth in agony, she persevered, the mechanism protesting with a shrill cacophony as the barrier struggled to maintain its integrity.

"What are you doing?" Avral shrieked. "Blake...! Stop it!" Juni gripped her shoulders and kept her from touching their barrier, and watched intently.

"Blake..." Grant stood close to her, but didn't attempt to physically remove her from the doorway. "Blake...!"

Blake screamed, throwing her head back, just as her hand finally passed throgh the doorway. Flailing for a moment, fingers twitching involuntarily, she finally hit the emergency release off to the side, and the barrier suddenly disappeared.

She fell to the floor just before Grant could reach her, but he helped her stand and supported her weight. "That was a stupid thing to do," he said.

"Just get the others out," she replied. "We don't have time."

* * *

Avral was the first through the door leading into the ship's central corridor, and came abruptly face to face with Barr. For one brief moment, they stared at each other, till Barr started to raise her gun... The two of them struggled, Avral trying to wrestle the weapon from her mother's doppelgänger's grip and meeting fierce resistance. Finally, the younger woman pulled the gun aside and very abruptly let go, forcing Barr off balance - Avral took the opportunity to deliver a savage blow with her knee and then the back of her hand.

"Somebody book me a psychotherapist!" said Avral as the others caught up.

"Arms locker," called Grant as she picked up the gun. "No time to be lost!"

Avral looked down at the winded Barr, staring up at her with blood dripping down her face, wariness alongside her usual contempt as she stared up the barrel of her own gun.

"Better make up your mind, my dear."

Avral turned away and ran for the arms locker, firing a couple of shots as some of Barr's people appeared at the next intersection but one. Grant loomed over Barr, and Blake and Juni paused to watch. "You look like you want to kill me with your bare hands," said Barr.

"Till we get some guns, that's all I have," said Grant, trembling a little. "I _could_ do it."

"Yes, I _know_ you could..."

Grant was thoroughly taken aback as someone walked in front of him - Juni brutally kicked Barr in the head, knocking her unconscious against the bulkhead. "You were taking too long," she said by way of explanation as she ran after Avral.

Grant and Blake shared a brief look - his bemused, hers wry amusement - before hurrying after the others. Barr remained slumped on the deck - Her hand, pressed against the bulkhead, slowly slid down as her grip relaxed.

* * *

The flight-deck of Avalon's ship was in turmoil as it became clear ships were now approaching from - as far as was meaningful in space - every direction. Zee demanded reports of the crew, becoming more and more rattled as it dawned on her there was no escape. "How many of them...? Just tell me that, if nothing else... How many ships-?"

She looked round as the doors at the rear opened, and was allowed just enough time to register Del Grant standing there with a gun in his hand before he shot her. The flight-deck personnel just stared, as Zee did into the coldly ruthless eyes of her killer as she slowly toppled and hit the deck.

Blake came in and moved past Grant. "You are all _our_ prisoners now," she said calmly, holding a gun of her own. "Stand, slowly and carefully, and in an orderly fashion, leave the flight-deck..." As they all stared disbelievingly at her, she raised her voice. "Go! Go now!"

They started to obey, and filed past a vigilant Juni and Avral. When the last one had left, Avral sealed the hatch, locking them in and everyone else out.

The voice came through on comms before any of them even had a chance to get acclimatised. _"Attention, pirate vessel... Attention... Respond or be fired upon."_

They all scrambled into the crew positions, and Juni searched for the means to respond and eventually found it. "Um, yes, this is... pirate vessel... Go ahead." _Go ahead?_ Blake mouthed incredulously, and Juni shrugged.

_"Your immediate surrender is demanded... No conditions or attempts at deceit will be countenanced... You have-"_

"-Tell me who I'm surrendering to, and I might consider it!" said Blake. "If it's Scarn, forget it... Just destroy us now." It was the turn of everyone else to look incredulous, but Blake settled them with an urgent gesture. There was a few seconds of dead air before the reply eventually came.

_"The offer comes from the Lady Shilena Mekatir, in her capacity as ruler and commander-in -chief of the forces of the Proxima system."_

Blake, Juni, Avral and Grant just looked at each other, nonplussed.

* * *

**Proxima II - One day earlier**

"You are a most peculiar creature," Lady Shilena told the projection, that curiously-elongated artificial-seeming face, towering above her, ignoring Lenta Guld for now. Caster Baroon grinned, displaying perfectly even white teeth.

 _"Why, shucks, m'lady..."_ The accent was curious, and obviously assumed temporarily, perhaps for this being's own amusement. _"Shucks."_

"You wanted to speak with me..." A glance at Lenta, then back to the projection. "Why?"

_"Because, basically, because I thought it was time someone did."_

"What does that mean?"

_"Ain't'ya tired, I mean, sooooooooo tired, of propping up a parasitical monster who's been squandering what's left of your family's good name for the last fifty years and now plans to do the same to the whole human race...? I know I'd be mightily peeved if I was you... Ooh, I just imagined that... That's weird... I got pimples... That was fun, I liked the time I spent being you... Let's do this again sometime."_

"You expect me to listen to this fool?" Lady Shilena demanded, speaking to Lenta.

"You _are_ listening," her aide replied.

"Well," she said, returning her attention to Caster Baroon. "I have, as you might have noticed, lived a rather long time, and it is possible, inevitable perhaps, that in that time I have learned certain lessons... That sometimes a fool is a _fool_... and sometimes he might happen to be a very effective disguise for something else."

 _"Ooh,"_ said Caster Baroon, _"M'lady's no fool, that's for sure... But is she sure she wants to go down this road... Is she sure she wants a peek behind this particular curtain...?"_

"She is quite certain, I assure you." Lady Shilena looked over at Lenta, and saw her aide's eyes widen... Excitement...? Trepidation...? Plain fear? She turned back again sharply as a voice, different from that of Caster Baroon, issued from the speakers.

 _"Request permission to disengage avatar protocol..."_ said a prissy, fussy old man voice, and then there was a pause. _"Awaiting administrator with somewhat dwindling patience..."_

Lady Shilena found the voice, synching perfectly if somewhat peculiarly with Caster Baroon's full lips, irritatingly familiar... until she finally recognised it as that of Orac, the super-computer... A voice she heard only once, thirty years earlier, issuing tinnily from a bracelet... A bracelet on the wrist of-

- _"Yes, Orac,"_ said a gravelly, oddly toneless voice. _"Disengage avatar protocol."_

"How... unexpected to hear from _you_ again." Lady Shilena sat forward, eagerly, like a master of Probability Squares who has only ever played with amateurs and now finds herself opposite someone who is at the very least her equal... She watched as Caster Baroon's face dissolved into shadow, and another took its place. Human, that of an older man, craggy and cold in its repose.

 _"Lady Shilena..."_ said Avon. _"We must speak."_


	13. Chapter 13

"I never thought to see you again," Lady Shilena Mekatir mused, looking up at the huge three-dimensional image of Kerr Avon's craggy face.

 _"And you probably won't,"_ he said.

"When we met before, briefly, I thought you just another of Blake's followers... But I followed your later exploits with interest. You really became much more than that, didn't you?"

_"Or less, perhaps."_

"You killed him... You killed Blake."

 _"True, but irrelevant,"_ said Avon. _"Shall we get to the point?"_

"Yes, please. Why such elaborate methods...? With the means you clearly have, why not communicate with me directly, long before now...?"

_"You weren't ready."_

"What does that mean?" Lady Shilena fired a questioning look, one that promised much discussion later, to her aide. Doctor Lenta Guld, or whatever her name really was, said nothing, and her expression gave away just as little.

 _"The human race stands on a precipice..."_ said Avon. _"And I think, once the full facts become clear to you, you will want to join in what must be done."_

"Do you now...?"

 _"Your people represent the bulk of what's left of our species... And what's about to happen will decide what happens to that species... What its future will be... Whether it even has a future... All that depends on you..."_ His holographic image smiled broadly. _"No pressure."_

* * *

"How long...?" Fingers gripping the balcony's safety rail, Lady Shilena turned to Lenta Guld, the panoramic cityscape spread out before them disappearing from her notice.

"How long?"

"How long have I _believed_ you were working for _me_... When you were actually _his_?"

"I have been working for Unified Systems since the day it was formed... That has never changed."

"To whom are you loyal...? Me? Scarn? Avon? Tell me, _who_?"

"Those are abstractions..."

"Now, you sound like _him_... Like Carnell."

"Please don't bracket me with that-"

"-Have you betrayed me? I can't quite decide."

"This is wasting time-"

"-How much time you have is up to _me_ ," said Lady Shilena, eyes narrowing. "You would do well to remember that."

"I won't forget."

"So tell me... How long?"

"He found me... Avon found me, not long after the war... On a refugee ship. He helped me... I think he saw something in me, something he could use... He gave me a past, created Lenta Guld, _Doctor Guld_ , from nothing... Overnight, I had an identity, a place to be... I had never had that before in my whole life..."

"I see."

"You were part of it, even then, before it became clear _how_... We knew you would be the one."

"To do what?"

"Rule," Lenta Guld said simply. "Just that. _Rule_. When Scarn's tyranny is torn down, something else has to go in its place..."

"I'm an old woman..."

"Yet you've outlived many."

"I may outlive _you_ , certainly..."

Lenta bowed slightly. "If that is how it has to be."

Lady Shilena's forbidding visage finally gave way to a faint smile. "You really aren't scared, are you...?"

Lenta's eyes glistened, and her voice broke a little as she continued. "I saw the Andromedans... What they did to Freedom City... I saw the end of everything, coming for us... What can be worse than that...? What is there that could _scare_ me, after that?"

"Advise me. That's what you're here to do, so advise me... What would you have me do?"

"There's someone you must meet," said Lenta. "And if we don't make that happen _now_ , it may be too late."

* * *

**21 hours later...**

**Avalon's ship, deep space...**

"All right," said Blake, turning from the screen. "Scarn's wife... What do we know?"

"What there _is_ to know," said Grant. "He had her locked away for the last seven years... In the early days of his reign, she had almost as much power as him, in fact as far as entitlement to rule goes, she outranks him. But the Proximans don't hold with rule by women, not at the top at any rate..." Seeing the expression on his comrades' faces, he put up his hands as if to say _Don't shoot the messenger_.

"It's a good thing not everyone sees it that way," said Juni wryly.

"I'm not even sure the average Proximan does," said Avral. "But Scarn does, and that's what matters."

"Is her intervention likely to be good news?" asked Blake. "For us, that is."

"Anyone's guess," Grant replied. "Scarn let her go free, gave her all her power back, but somehow I think seven years of imprisonment might be worth holding a grudge over."

"Maybe all she needs is a chance to strike back at him," Juni suggested. "And that's what we're seeing right now."

"We know surprisingly little about her," said Avral. "Scarn's power derives from her, but that doesn't mean she necessarily approves of everything he's done."

"You said she almost had you executed," said Juni.

Avral shuddered slightly at the memory. "Someone did. I don't know exactly what _she_ had to do with that."

"Well, whatever we're going to do," said Blake, "Best decide quickly... They're extending the transfer tube now."

* * *

UniS troopers advanced across the transfer tube in pairs and through the airlock one at a time before fanning out through the enemy ship, securing it section by section and accepting the surrender of Avalon's crew. The entire operation proceeded like a training exercise, to the relief and approval of the officers, but one enemy combatant proved elusive...

 _"Hurry up in there..."_ came the instructions from their ship, just to add to the pressure. _"That ship is taking us with it into the neutronic storm... If we let it. Just grab every prisoner you can, grab all the data you can, and get out of there..."_

 _"Understood,"_ said the captain of the boarding party.

* * *

Barr half-ran, half-staggered, glancing behind her several times as she finally reached the aft-section... Her head was a monument to the concept of pain, waves of it pulsing and impacting her like a hammer to the back of her skull, with accompanying nausea. She couldn't and wouldn't, let herself be deflected from her goal, however, pursued as single-mindedly as anything in her long career as a mercenary and bounty-hunter.

Zee was gone... A brief and stealthy visit to the flight-deck, only just avoiding Del Grant and the others as they went aft, had told her that. Barr wasn't quite sure yet how that was going to affect her... The loss of her companion was something she had never in all these years contemplated, indeed if anything she had assumed that if a violent death was their fate they would almost certainly meet it together. Life without Zee was... a strange concept, one that she had to put from her mind to concentrate on the more pressing business of survival.

They were coming... Almost certainly, they would be nearby now and aware of the UniS force boarding the ship. Barr's mind raced, even as the pulsing agony pounded away at her concentration - There was only one hope...

* * *

"Here..." Juni finished distributing the teleport bracelets, Blake having bade her put their guns back down. _No point,_ she had said. Offering resistance to the boarders was hardly an option at this stage. There may not even be a point to keeping the teleport bracelets, but it was worth a try and unlikely to get them shot out of hand.

Even so, surrendering was a tense affair, even after the officers of the boarding party had confirmed their identities. For the second time in as many days, Blake, Juni, Avral and Grant found themselves taken prisoner.

* * *

**Former Earth administration ship _London_ , deep space**

"Caul... Can we talk...?"

On his way forward toward the flight-deck along one of London's corridors, Caul waited for Rissa to catch up, and turned to face her. He smiled, awkwardly. Try as he might, he still couldn't do it any other way, and Rissa stood looking at him for a long moment.

"There's something you're not telling me..." she said, folding her arms.

"I have to get to the flight-deck." He started to move, and was far from surprised when Rissa's arm shot out and blocked his way. He turned back to her, as her arms folded again.

"Yes, I know, so do I... It can wait a moment."

"I was getting the remote sensor drone ready for Darvin... He-"

"Talk to me properly, Caul... Can you do that? Real question, _serious_ question... Can you do that?"

His eyes darted to and from her unblinking gaze, as he gathered the necessary words, and she waited patiently. "Of course. We're friends."

"I thought that, I was sure we were... But friends don't have secrets, Caul."

"Yes, they-" He stopped.

"I'm sorry to do this, I know this makes you very uncomfortable, but I have no choice-"

"I have to get to the flight-deck..."

"So do I."

"Friends keep secrets all the time." He met her gaze steadily, but not for long, and his eyes were soon darting away again.

"When have you had friends before, _Caul_... Before Blake and _me_ and Darvin?"

There was a brief pause. "Haven't."

"So what are you comparing us with...? You _are_ keeping something from me, I know you are... I've known it for a while, but now there's something else... I can read you very easily, you know... I read people, that's something I'm good at."

He came close to losing his temper. "If friends don't keep secrets, then...!"

"What...? Keep going."

"Then who are you...? Where are you from...?"

"... _See_ , it's nice to get these things out in the open. Maybe you should ask Darvin."

"He keeps secrets."

She smiled, and looked away for a moment. "That he does... He's a good friend. The best." Looking back at him, she mused, "I'm not getting past those defences, am I...?" Her smile turned sad. "It's not going to happen." She started to turn away. "That's a pity..."

"I'm-"

She turned back. "-Are you looking forward to getting back to the others...? To Blake... and _Juni_..." Sensing she had found a weak spot, as intended, she continued. "I'm sorry, I really didn't get you at first... _Now_ , I think I do." He started to gather a reply, but before he could, she reached up to run a finger down his cheek. "It would have been good... Better than good. But I got it wrong..."

She turned away and continued toward the flight-deck, and after a moment Caul followed. "Juni's lucky," Rissa said casually. "But then, she _got_ you right away."

* * *

Barr kicked out several times at the hatch of the storage locker, each blow precipitating an excruciating wave of agony in her skull, till finally it fell to the deck with a clatter, and she fell after it, rolling as she hit the hard metal deck. After lying there for what seemed like an hour, but was probably more like a minute, she stood and opened her eyes.

A quick search told her what she already expected to find... She was alone on the ship. The boarding party had hurriedly seized her people, and Grant and _his_ people, and evacuated. On arriving at the flight-deck, it became clear that hadn't included the dead.

Zee's sightless eyes stared up at her as she entered, and she returned their impassive gaze for a while, trembling slightly. " _Sorry_ ," said Barr. "It all went wrong, didn't it?" She crouched down, and placed her own cloak over her partner's body to hide those accusing eyes. "This _wasn't_ how it was supposed to be... Obviously."

A quick check of the instruments told her that the ship had made it through the heart of the neutronic storm with releatively little damage - She had made it, shielded and to some extent protected from the buffeting by the confines of the storage locker, and now she was alone on the ship.

Alone.

Then the proximity detector sounded, and she hurried to relevant panel to find out what she could. The readings on the approaching vessel came in, and she breathed out with relief. Not an enemy, not this time...

She hurried, as best she could in the state she was in, to the airlock, just in time to greet the new arrivals... Familiar figures, mercs like her and Zee, some of them colleagues of old. Barr gave a faint smile at the sight of them, ashen-faced.

"Good to see you..." she said, sounding as exhausted as she felt.

"What happened...?" asked the leader of the boarding party.

"I'll tell you... I'll tell you it all... But first-" She felt the tiny impact, the sudden if fleeting sharp pain, and looked down at the dart in her arm... Then the warm wave of drowsiness passing through her body, the sudden weakness in her legs. One of the arrivals caught her before her body could hit the floor.

"Yes, that's right... We don't want her damaged," said the leader of the boarding party with a faint smirk on her face. "Bring the other one as well."

_"Are you sure...? The signs indicated she's probably dead."_

A shrug. "Bring her anyway... She may be of some use. You never know."

* * *

"Thank you for coming," said Darvin as they joined him on the flight-deck. "Shall we...?" Recognising the implicit criticism, Caul hurried to take over from Tam Nivri at the pilot's position, while Rissa stood next to her captain.

"Don't be like that, boss..." she said, brushing imaginary dirt off the shoulder of his tunic while ignoring the accumulated and encrusted filth from Abisian's surface that stained the entire garment. "You know you can rely on us... Me _and_ Caul." She stared him out playfully.

"Whatever," Darvin replied, looking at her a little askance. "Caul, that drone all right?"

"Ready to launch... Now." Activating the launch, Caul adjusted the viewer so they could see the object, tiny against _London_ 's bulk, shooting off into space to their rear.

"Pursuing vessels?" Darvin turned to where Nivri was now leaning over another console.

"Still pursuing," said Nivri, turning to him. "But then, we expected that, didn't we?"

"Probe's in range," said Caul, a little sooner than Darvin had hoped he would - They were obviously gaining.

"How many?"

"A moment..." Caul's face was ashen as he turned to face Darvin. "It's not a few ships as we thought... They're coming after us in force..." Responding to an alert, he turned back to the viewer. "They just destroyed the probe."

"What did we get before they did that?"

"Thirty ships," said Nivri, as the probe's findings displayed on his console. "That is, thirty in range... The probe was just extending its parameters for another scan when they killed it." His cheeks filled with breath and then deflated as he exhaled with a long sigh. "That's that, then."

"So more than thirty..."

"Maybe a lot more," said Nivri. "I'm out of ideas."

"Navigation computer...?"

"On line," said Caul. "It was trying to make contact with Earth Adminstration, that's why it was so slow, but I finally got it to stop."

"Good," said Darvin. "That's something, then."

"What about it then, boss...?" Rissa asked. "Just where do you go with a fleet of maniacs on your tail?"

"I've been giving that some thought..."

"No time like the present..."

"Set course, Caul..." Darvin turned to face the pilot's station. "For the Proxima system." The others all looked at him, agape.

""You sure about that, Stev...?" Nivri wondered. "Do we really need to make things worse for ourselves...?"

"They'd be mad to follow us, wouldn't they?"

"You know what, boss...?" said Rissa, "I really think they might _actually_ be mad."

"Good," said Darvin, as Caul, who had made no comment, just got on with inputing their new course. "We've got our issues with UniS, and with the Children of Light... I think it's about time we introduced those two kids..." He looked around them. "I'm a matchmaker at heart."

His eyes flicked over to another area of the flight-deck, one where as far as the others were concerned, no one was there... and _Tarna_ stood looking back at him with a faint smile to show that she, and only she, _really_ understood.

* * *

**Storm Mountain**

The lifelike hologram of President Scarn sprung into being in the Sphere Chamber, startling both Vuun and Faal, still locked in their war of words and philosophies. "Well...?" Scarn demanded, his distraction obvious to both of them. "Will he do it?"

Vuun moved a little away from Faal and toward Scarn. "I need a little more time..."

"I have given you more than enough," said Scarn coldly. "Either he will provide what we need willingly, or you must take it from him by whatever means are necessary."

Vuun almost laughed, and ran a slender-fingered hand over his long face. "Yes... It doesn't really work like that-"

"- _Make_ it work!"

Vuun turned to Faal, who had been listening with polite if detached interest, as if the whole thing had nothing to do with him. "Well, brother... It seemes the pressure of time is now on us."

"On you, perhaps."

Scarn's eyes narrowed as he peered at Faal. "You know I will have you killed...? Cooperate, if you wish to continue living."

Faal did not answer, he just wandered around the chamber with the faintest of smiles on his face. Vuun turned back to Scarn. "He _will_ cooperate, I assure-"

"Well?" Scarn addressed Faal only, aware where the real power lay now. "Do as you are bid," he ordered. "Or die... and your entire species with you."

Faal locked eyes with Vuun, for a long moment, thought it felt considerably longer to his batch-brother. Then his impassive gaze moved to Scarn. Wordlessly he moved around and held a long bony arm outstretched, pointed up toward the huge floating sphere. "Of course," he said, more to himself than to anyone else in the chamber. "It has to be this way."

Vuun moved to stand next to him, and held up his hand as well to point toward the sphere. "You will not regret it, Faal," he assured, his relief palpable. "You're not saving our lives, you're saving our species..." As he spoke, a stream of wispy green energy flowed from the surface of the sphere and met their outstretched fingers, pulsing and coalescing around them in waves unpredictable to anyone who watched... But not to them.

"No," Faal agreed. "I am not saving our lives." He glanced at Vuun. "And I have no regret."

Vuun looked concerned as he detected unusual patterns in the ripples of energy, and his eyes widened. "No..." he said. "Don't do this, brother... Don't do this..."

"Too late," said Faal, calmer than he had ever been. "It is done. You've given me complete access..."

"It was necessary," said Vuun, as if excusing himself - His glance flicked momentarily to the hologram of Scarn, to whom such excuses would be better directed. "It was the only way... _Please_ don't. They'll kill us."

"Perhaps it's time," said Faal, and grinned broadly in an uncharacteristic gesture. "I feel you, Vuun... I'm getting your memories... I see... I finally understand..." He turned to face him again. "And I'm sorry..."

 _"Sorry..."_ Vuun was dazed now, and seemed unable to take his hand away from the stream of energy, as if the sphere was now feeding on him and refused to let him go.

"Sorry, yes," said Faal. "But I could never allow it... You know that."

"I was sure... you would come round."

"You deceived yourself... Once, you too would have done this, and gladly... It is the only way."

Scarn's hologram was suddenly standing much nearer to them. _"Vuun!"_ the President demanded. "What's happening...? What has he done?!"

"He has..." Vuun took a shallow breath. "He is draining the station... Draining Storm Mountain... I had to give him access...! There was no other way!"

"Draining...? To where?!"

* * *

The Liberator, dwarfed by the vastness of Storm Mountain's gleaming shell, was dormant, the tiny vessels and extra-vehicular parties investigating its hull... Until, suddenly, it was no longer dormant. Powering up, it began moving almost immediately, oblivious and unconcerned at the carnage it caused as the space-suited investigators were flung into the void and the support vessels sent spiralling out of control.

 _"CONFIRMED,"_ said Zen, his voice echoing throughout the empty vessel.

* * *

**Proxima II**

The UniS troopers, uncertain now as they had been throughout the journey as to the status of their prisoners, handed them over gratefully to Lady Shilena Mekatir's elite personal guards - Marched through the corridors of the palace, Blake, Grant, Avral and Juni were just as uncertain. These captors, unlike the previous ones, had treated them well, apparently under strict orders to do so.

What kind of trap was this precisely?

* * *

"Blake."

There was what sounded like a hint of a question in Lady Shilena's voice as she sat behind her desk and took in the sight of her somewhat bedraggled prisoners. The four of them shifted, looking at each other and at Lenta Guld standing behind and slightly to Lady Shilena's right. Was she unsure which one of them Blake was?

Blake stepped forward, slowly and carefully so as not to alarm the guards unduly. "That's me."

There was a long pause as Lady Shilena studied the young woman standing before her. The long face with big dark-eyes, the mop of dark curly hair... Could it be...?

"I knew Roj Blake..." she said finally. "For a short time, at least." Another pause. "What are you to him?"

"No relation." Blake smiled. "I find the name useful... At times. Less so at others."

Lady Shilena smiled too, and that placed Blake even more on her guard than she was already. "I can see how that would be so, yes."

Grant stepped forward, just as carefully as Blake had. "Madame," he began, "I am Del Grant-"

"-Yes, I'm aware of that," said Lady Shilena, still looking at Blake. "Be quiet, please."

With a rueful glance at Avral, Grant stepped back as commanded, and Lady Shilena seemed to notice Avral for the first time.

"How nice to see you again, my dear... I perceive you're afraid, but you needn't be... Not unduly. Your planned execution was not my doing, nor was the unfortunate treatment you were subject to beforehand."

"Thank you," said Avral with a hint of bitterness. "That makes up for everything."

"Nor was your being caught," the First Lady went on. "You had already been identified, my dear... You really thought I had recognised you in some supernatural fashion...? No, look to the deficiencies within your own organisation for the real reason you were captured." She looked pointedly at Grant, and he quickly looked away. "No, I just wanted to speak with you before my husband's forces had their sport."

"And there was nothing you could do...?" Juni said that, with a slightly mocking tone, and Lady Shilena's cold gaze shifted to her.

"Oh, this one's afraid of nothing," she said, just as mockingly. "But then, I know your pedigree, my dear, so that doesn't surprise me at all... Not at all." Her eyes passed over the whole group. "What am I to make of you...?" she pondered. "What am I to make of you?"

"You were going to make a charred skeleton and lots of carbonised dust of me," said Avral hurriedly, a faint quaver of anger and fear in her voice. "Is that not still the plan?"

Lady Shilena rolled her eyes, and addressed her reply to Del Grant. "The young never listen... Is that your experience too...?" To all of them, she said, "What part of _not my doing_ wasn't clear, eh...?"

"All Scarn's fault, then...?" asked Blake. "That's convenient."

"We have a mutual acquaintance," said Lady Shilena abruptly. "But I'll come back to that... You'll notice, my dear," she said to Avral, "The absence of something very prevalent when you were last here... Take a moment to think, I'm not rushing you."

Avral flushed slightly as they all stared at her. Finally, she realised what she was supposed to say. "The guards."

"Well done... My husband's elite guards... No longer here. My own have taken over, and by all accounts proved their own elite status rather better than his. I am in charge here now. As it should be."

"You're in charge," mused Blake. "So, now everything's all right, and you want us rebels to just stand down... because nice people are in power now and we're no longer needed." She smiled. "Do I understand the situation?"

"I realise we've only just met, Blake dear, but do I truly strike you as _nice_?"

"Honestly," said Blake, "I don't really know that much about you, and what little opinion I've heard is divided."

"My husband released me from house arrest because, strange as it may seem, and I don't know this for certain but I believe it to be true, he thought I was now the only one he could truly rely upon..." Her forbidding gaze was fixed on Blake once more. "He brought me back, my dear, to deal with you... And that is my intention. The definition of _dealing_ with you is, I suspect, quite fixed in what it means, in President Scarn's mind... But I am more flexible."

"Oh, get on with it..." said Juni scathingly, and the others all looked askance at her. Aware of their reaction, she refused to back down. "You're good, you know... Oh, but of course you are, you know it already. I've seen this done before... You know where I came from, you know who raised me... _I've seen this done before_..." She moved forward toward the desk, as close as she believed the guards would allow her. "You knew the conclusion to all this before we stepped in here, and nothing we do or say will change it one bit. So why not just get to it?"

Taken aback, Lady Shilena nonetheless recovered quickly, and sat back in her chair. "Quite right, m-" She paused for a moment. "Juni. You're right in every sense. I do know, in the short term at least, what is to be done with you."

"Well, that's promising," said Blake, her eyes wandering to follow Lenta Guld as she moved off in response to an urgent gesture from one of her staff at the door, before returning to the First Lady. "You said we had a mutual acquaintance..."

"I also said I would come back to that."

"Oh, let's be spontaneous... We're all friends here...?" The questioning intonation was left hanging ominously. Blake looked away again as Lenta Guld returned.

"Something's happening," Lenta said urgently, leaning over the desk to talk quietly.

"I said there were to be no interruptions."

"I know."

"All right, tell me."

"Here?"

" _Here_."

"A report has just come through," Lenta said, her voice disbelieving the words she was saying. "It's a distress call, on all frequencies... From Storm Mountain."

* * *

Scarn's hologram staggered a little as it backed away, face reddening with the escalating rage of the ultimate megalomaniac. "Reverse it...!" he bellowed. "Reverse it now!"

"I can't," said Vuun quietly, unconcerned if Scarn could not hear him over the increasing cacophony in the Sphere Chamber. He spoke now only to Faal, failing to notice as the hologram vanished behind him. "They will never know," he told his batch-brother sadly. "They think you're dead already... They will never know you did this for them."

"Is that what you think...?" Faal stepped closer, and brought his arm back to his side - He had done all he could now, and it was too late to reverse what he had achieved. "I did this for you... brother."

"For me...?" Vuun was listless and infinitely sad, knowing now that all his dreams were gone. His race finally ended. "You did this... for me?"

"What you would have done... The real you."

"It's starting..." said Vuun, indicating Faal's exposed forearm. "The dissolution... Nothing can stop it now."

"I know." Faal looked at where Vuun had pointed, and saw the faint glow, saw, as no one but them could, the slow dispersal of the matter and energy that composed his body... Vuun was right. What had been delayed once could no longer be halted. "The rule of life," he acknowledged quietly and reverently.

Faal was dying. He smiled, and laughed long and loud as a tear rolled down Vuun's pale cheek.

* * *

Scarn came to in his survival chamber, enclosed in the cradling grip of his chair at the centre, and took a few moments to become used to being in his own body once more. He shook his head as if to clear it, just in time to begin receiving the urgent reports that immediately began to issue from the loudspeakers.

_"Sir...! President Scarn...! I-! Presid- Report from-! President Scarn, sir...! The alien is moving off... Approaching perimeter of shield...! May be too late-! President Sc-!"_

Scarn irritably shut off the reports, and issued a command of his own. "All troops to the Sphere Chamber..." he said sonorously. "Kill everything within... Repeat, kill _everything_!"

He sat back and took a rattling breath. Activating some controls on the arm of the survival chair, he said regretfully, "I am abandoning Storm Mountain."

* * *

"We have a moment," said Vuun quietly. "Before he sends his soldiers in here to kill both of us... That's if you don't disperse before that..." He looked up at Faal expectantly. "Anything to say?"

"No," said Faal. "I have done what I set out to do, and more beside. I am content."

"Content..." Vuun smiled bitterly. "Content."

Faal felt strange, suddenly... Looking at his arm again, he watched as matter continued to dissolve from him at the same slow pace... But there was something else... A tingling, faint and strangely familiar, throughout his entire body... _Of course...!_

He ran a finger along the long tunic he wore... The tunic gifted him back at Galaxy City by... her. Just like her dresses, spun with aquicite. He smiled sadly. He could have escaped, thanks to _her_... Thanks to Servalan. If he wasn't already dead.

"Goodbye, brother," he said to Vuun, and the last thing he saw in the Sphere Chamber was Vuun's disbelieving face as the UniS troops stormed in behind him and immediately opened fire.

* * *

Faal was on the Liberator, in the teleport bay, the tingling sensation now fading. The familiar sound of the Liberator's systems, seeming louder than before as if his senses were enhanced by the process of dissolution. He moved forward and, feeling weak now, sought the support of the control desk. There he stayed as the wave of green energy passed over him, and his flesh and the supporting bones dissolved into their component particles.

The aquicite-laced tunic and trousers fell to the deck to reside with his empty boots.

* * *

"Avon...?" Blake was incredulous, and shot a glance at Juni to find her feeling much the same. "And I thought he had finished with us."

"Not while we're still a source of amusement," said Juni.

" _Avon_..." Avral said the name as if to hear how it sounded in her voice. "The man who killed Blake." She turned to Grant. "The man who-"

"- _Yes_ ," he said abruptly, and turned away as if not wanting them to see his expression. It was one thing to view Avon as a figure from the past, quite another to know he was here with them in the present and still having an effect on all their lives.

"Can we speak to him?" Blake asked Lady Shilena. Lenta Guld, however, was the one who answered.

"It... doesn't exactly work that way," she sort of explained. "He pretty much has control of communications between here and... where _he_ is."

"And where is that?" Grant demanded, not for one moment expecting an answer.

"So what exactly happens now," asked Juni. "We're all rebels now, aren't we...?"

Lady Shilena's expression suggested she viewed that as impertinent, but after a moment she seemed to see the question as a valid one. "It's not for the first time," she said quietly.

She looked up as Lenta leaned forward over the desk again and spoke quietly in her ear. The others got the sense that something else was happening, and the First Lady's alarmed reaction did not disabuse them of that impression.

"Are you all right...?" With a moment before all hell broke loose around them again, Avral put her hand on Del Grant's shoulder.

"If you are," he replied, and they shared the faintest of smiles.

"Come with me, all of you," Lady Shilena commanded as she stood and swept around the desk on her way to the doors.

"Actually, I'll need a moment here, if that's all right..." said Lenta, clutching her earpiece. She took the lack of a reply as confirmation. "Juni...!"

Surprised to hear her name called, Juni turned, and the others hung back as well - The guards looked uncertain as to just what _they_ were supposed to do. "Me...?" she asked uncertainly.

"Yes," said Lenta, businesslike as she pored over reports coming up on her monitors. "A couple of intelligence questions about Galaxy City... You're an asset now."

Blake and Juni looked at each other and, at length, seemed to see nothing wrong, and only a little bit suspicious, in the request. Blake touched her advisor's arm. "If anything happens to you, I'll blow this whole place up... You know I will."

"I know," said Juni, smiling.

The others left to follow Lady Shilena, and Juni moved over to join Lenta. Before she could say anything, Lenta took out her earpiece. "I lied," she said straightforwardly. "We have a communication waiting _now_... You all right to take it?"

"Me... Why does Avon want to talk to me?" Juni shrugged. "All right."

Lenta activated the holographic display, and swiftly exited, leaving Juni alone as the image formed above the desk and a face took shape. Juni breathed out slowly and audibly. "You..." she gasped.

 _"Hello, darling girl,"_ said Servalan.

* * *

 _London_ hurtled through the outer reaches of the Proxima system, the forces of the Children of Light very close behind now, and space itself buckled and warped as the fleet reduced to sublight speed...

The forces of the Unified Systems fleet, such as could be gathered with the required urgency, gathered to intercept the invaders...

The Liberator emerged from the the star itself and shot outwards in a fiery plume towards its next destination...

Smirmishers from both sides opened fire as the UniS and Children of Light fleets reached each other.

The battle of Storm Mountain had begun.


End file.
